


Guilty Verdict

by Mediumdinosaur



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Being Apart, F/M, Jail, Marriage, Prison, Smut, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Visiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mediumdinosaur/pseuds/Mediumdinosaur
Summary: Tora can never leave the Balthuman organization, but leaving Poppy isn't an option either. Fast-forward? They've been married now for one month.The honeymoon is definitely over. Tora is under arrest for a deal gone wrong. With his record, he’s not getting off with a warning.Well, thank goodness for conjugal visits...
Relationships: Tora/Poppy
Comments: 168
Kudos: 256





	1. Verdict

**Author's Note:**

> guess what it's NOT A ONE SHOT and this time I am admitting it to myself.

Poppy gripped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. All she could see of Tora was the back of his head, his long hair pulled back, his shoulders square and straight beneath the orange shirt. She knew his hands were handcuffed; she’d seen that when they’d brought him in fifteen minutes before.

He had only looked at her once, as he walked past her. He had not turned around since. His lawyer had done all the talking.

“How do you plead?” the judge asked.

“Guilty.”

So there would be no trial. Straight to sentencing.

“Despite your limited involvement, this is quite a record,” the judge was saying. “At a certain point, we have to assume somebody is just… beyond rehabilitation. I have the choice of anywhere from a fine to a year in prison.” The judge shook her head. “Starting today, you will serve one year in the North Narin district prison. No parole.”

Poppy choked back a sob of anger. Gyu grabbed her arm hard to keep her in her seat.

“A fine,” Poppy hissed. “She _could have given him a fine._ ”

Gyu gripped her arm harder but said nothing.

An officer was hauling Tora up to his feet and shoving him towards a doorway on the right. Tora stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched and his head held high.

He did not turn to look at her. And then he was gone, vanishing through the doorway.

\---

It was nearly impossible to focus on work for the next weeks. She stayed at Quincey’s like she had agreed to do. She kept her phone on her at all times, putting it on vibrate instead of silent during meetings. Every time it buzzed she jumped, but there was no call from the prison.

She couldn’t call him. If they were going to talk, Tora had to be the one to call. All she could do was write letters. At first they had started sweet.

Things like: _I love you and I miss you. I hope you’re doing well._ She sent photos. She sent little drawings. She even sent a book. She put money into an account for him and asked: _does the cafeteria have strawberry juice?_

No phone call. No letters to her. And he put nobody on his visitor’s list. Not her, not Quincey, not Gyu. Nobody.

Her letters started to get mean.

Things like: _Tora, if you do not put me on that visitor list I swear to heck I will make you regret it for years to come._

_\---_

About a month since she had watched him vanish from the courtroom.

It was mid-morning. The coffeeshop near Giant Goldfish still had a line, though nothing approximating their morning rush. Poppy knew what Erdene and Jacob wanted, but she was in the mood to try something new. This wasn't a regular coffee sort of day. No, this was a giant, super sugary, fun flavors, sort of day. She needed a pick me up.

_Strawberry cream latte shake_. That made her heart hurt. So many little things these days made her heart hurt. She thought about trying it, then jutted out her chin and kept reading the menu. She was going to get something else, something that _didn't_ make her think of him.

The line shuffled forward. _Maybe the cinnamon one. Yeah. The cinnamon one._ She was next in line. Thank goodness she'd picked in time, before it got awkward.

Her phone rang and she scrambled for it. Unknown number.

“Hello?” she gasped as she hit answer.

< _AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL. >_

Poppy tore the phone away from her ear and tried to get to the keypad.

“C’mon—stupid smart phone—one. One.”

The man in front of her paid and walked away. She was standing in front of the counter as she put the phone back up to her ear.

“How can I help you?” said the scruffy punk-kid behind the counter, his green hair sticking out at angles under his hat.

Poppy shook her head wildly and stepped out of line.

“Bobby?”

She hadn’t heard his voice in so long. Deep, husky, perfect.

She opened her mouth to answer but choked out a sob instead. Phone pressed to her ear, Poppy fled the shop and onto the street. It was mostly empty; no noisy traffic.

“Tora,” she managed, afraid he would hang up if she didn’t say anything.

“Long time,” he said. She leaned against the brick wall of the coffee shop and covered her face with her hand.

“Why…” she swallowed back another sob and made her voice as firm as she knew how to make it. “Why haven’t you wanted to talk to me?”

“It’s not like that.” His voice was quiet and rough. It was normally soft for her. Not now. Just rough.

“Tora… I’m not stupid.”

“I can’t do this right now, Poppy. I just wanted ta hear your voice. Are you safe? Doin’ okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” She grabbed the phone with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Alright. I… I hope you have a good day.” 

“Wait. Tora, wait.”

There was silence, but no dial tone. He was still on the line.

“I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but you don’t get to do that.”

“You know what, Poppy? I got enough of people telling me what I can and can’t…”

“I’m your wife.”

“Christ, Poppy. I know you’re…”

“Put me on your visit list.”

“I…”

“Wh…why don’t you want to see me?”

“I just don’t want ya coming here,” he growled.

“I’m not asking,” she hissed, tears now streaming out of her eyes without her even trying to wipe them off.

“You know I…”

“Do it, Tora.”

Silence. Then he spoke again, his voice brusque and clipped.

“Have a good day, Poppy.”

The line went dead.

\---

A week. She was angry. She punched her pillow. She cried. She pulled up their wedding photo on her phone and said right to the small picture of his handsome, perfect face: “you’re being a real _fudge biscuit_.” Immediately regretted it. Cried again.

She didn’t write him anymore. It felt like rejection, mailing him gifts and updates and drawings and writing _I love you so much, I miss you, I’m counting down the days_ just to receive nothing back from him.

Then the letter arrived with the form for her to fill out for a background check. He had put her on the visitor list.

Poppy did it immediately and mailed it back to the prison the same day.

He still did not call a second time.

There was a hotline to see if the warden had approved her to visit. She called every day, sometimes twice a day, and read off the long application number, just to be told it was still processing.

On the eleventh day of calling, a different answer.

“Yes, ma’am, it looks like you’ve been approved. Please be certain to check the website for visiting rules and hours before you come. I recommend arriving early as visiting spots are first-come first-served.”


	2. Non-Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for all the angst x.x 
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading, and I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Friday night. A sleepless night. Poppy stared at the empty space next to her.

In the dark, the guest bedroom felt like one giant, gaping wound. The faint light through the window illuminated nothing but outlines and empty spaces. You would think, after almost two months since his arrest, that she would be used to sleeping alone.

It didn’t seem to get easier. She grabbed the extra pillows and threw them down where his body was supposed to be, then pressed her back up against them and wrapped her own hand around her stomach.

Not even close. As if a pile of pillows and her own hand could replace what her nights were supposed to be like.

Poppy kicked the pillows off the bed. Then the sheets. Then tried sleeping on the floor.

When she finally drifted off, it was with her head on the wrong side of the bed, the pillow wet from tears.

\---

The next morning the entire world felt too bright. Yawning made her jaw crack; coffee made her feel sick. She dressed in modest clothing, scribbled a note to Quincey, and got in Tora’s car.

It was a long drive, but she arrived half an hour before visitation started. There were already a few other people there. Poppy got in line and avoided looking at any of the other visitors, instead busying herself on her phone and trying to avoid the war in her head.

_If he wanted you to come, you wouldn’t have had to beg to be put on that list. He would have been calling you all the time. He would have written. He doesn’t want you here. Maybe he doesn’t even want you anymore._

And, against that: _you know he loves you. This is hard for him. He’s not good at it. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care._

But even if that were true, wasn’t it hard for her, too? Why did she have to be the patient one? She twisted her ring around her finger and tried to keep a clear head. Nothing felt fair right now. Nothing felt fixable.

The doors were opened. Then it was a whole ordeal. Metal detector. Pockets turned out. ID taken and then given back. An incredibly _thorough_ pat-down, thankfully from a female guard. Then waiting in a room until at last a guard called out a short list of names that included hers.

She was led to a cold, yellow-walled room. Along one wall was a row of booths, each with a phone and a glass panel that revealed an identical room on the other side.

“Wait,” Poppy said to the guard. “I thought there was a different—we can’t meet in person?”

“No ma’am. Some inmates are non-contact only.”

“Oh.” She walked over to one of the chairs, feeling disconnected from herself, as if she were floating in some odd dream.

Poppy sat down. There was nothing to see through the window. Just an empty room. Her heart beat a rapid tempo. What would she even say to him? Other visitors were taking seats in the booths on either side of her.

Then the door in the other room opened. A few inmates came through. She tried to watch for Tora but her attention was torn away when another man sat down across from her.

He was heavily tattooed, his head shaved. Built, but not tall like Tora. He grinned at her, then picked up the phone on his end and pointed at hers.

“What?” she said. He pointed to the phone again. She blinked and slowly reached out to pick it up.

“Hey, sugar. I dunno know who ya here for, but I’m…”

Then Tora appeared.

He towered behind the other man, his arms crossed. She had forgotten just how huge and intimidating he was, especially when he wanted to be. She could darn near feel ice leaking through the glass barrier.

His eyes were cold and narrowed, his mouth flat. His lips moved; she couldn’t hear what he was saying without the phone.

But the guy in front of her could hear. He dropped the phone and was out of view in a flash. Tora watched him go for a long moment before he sat down in the seat and picked up the phone.

Oh, the way he was staring at her. Like she was the only thing in the world. She forgot to be angry for a moment.

“Hi,” Poppy said.

Tora looked down, away from her. She heard him draw in one ragged, deep breath.

“Hi.”

“I didn’t think there’d be a wall.”

“You only get contact if ya been good all week.”

Just like that, her anger was back.

“Wait, so the reason I can’t even kiss you hello is because you got in _more_ trouble?”

“Fuck, it’s not like I…”

“No, good to know where I stand,” Poppy said, and hung up the phone.

He knocked on the window and pointed to the phone. She scowled at him and picked it back up.

“I didn’t start it, Bobby. I’m tryin’ to keep my head down. Calm the fuck down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“So damn feisty,” he said, and smiled at her sadly.

He looked so tired. Exhausted, really. She took a deep breath and really looked at him. Anger aside, how good it was to hear his voice and to see him in front of her. He leaned casually against the wall of his booth and stared back at her. He was holding the phone with his left hand. His knuckles looked red and scraped up.

“You aren’t wearing your ring,” she said.

“Seriously, Bobby? Ya think they let you keep shit like that in here?”

“Oh. Right.”

“Ya know, if you wanna… take yours off…” he looked at the wall instead of looking at her.

“What?”

“It’s not what you signed up for,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I knew who you were when I married you,” Poppy said.

“You don’t deserve this. I’m giving you an out.”

“You know what I do _deserve_ , Tora? For you to call me, _regularly_. For you to stop shutting me out, because I am _not_ the one who messed up here.”

His jaw worked, clenching and unclenching. His hand stayed tight on the phone receiver. His eyes stayed pointed away from hers.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Tora? The truth.”

At last his eyes met hers again. They were on fire; burning.

“Because I’m fucking ashamed, Poppy. I never wanted you to see me like this.” His voice was low but worked up, angry.

“But I…”

“I don’t want you answering calls from prison. I don’t want you gettin’ searched and walking through these halls.” He spat the words out like poison.

“Too bad. Too late. Stop shutting me out.”

She put her hand up against the glass. He stared at it. After a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched up a bit. He put his hand up, too. Bigger than hers. So close to touching, but suspended by glass, unable to feel each other. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another.

“Look. I… I’ll start calling. Promise.”

“Good.”

“Poppy... I’m sorry.”

“For which part of it?”

“All of it. Me being here. Me not calling you.”

They sat in silence a moment longer.

She hated seeing the orange shirt on him, but the short sleeves showed off his muscular, tattooed arms. And for the love of all that was good, those shoulders. Those eyelashes. Angry or not, she desperately needed to have him to herself. She had been counting on at least a hug and a kiss today, not this glass barrier.

“So,” Poppy said, clearing her throat. “Don’t they have, um. I was reading about… overnight visits?”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked and leaned towards her, a mischievous twinkle in one eye. “This mean I’m forgiven?”

Frack. Those dimples. Of all the times and places to feel heat gathering between her legs.

“Not forgiven… but I can think of all _sorts_ of ways for you to apologize,” she whispered to him.

“Anything you want.” His smile fell a little. “I gotta stay out of trouble for another month before I can even apply for that, though, sweetheart.”

“Then stay out of trouble. Duh.”

“Not that simple, Poppy. Too many idiots think if they take down the big guy…” he trailed off.

“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?"

“Yeah. Ya don't have to worry about me.” He shook his head and looked away again. “I’d rather talk about ya.”

“What about me?”

“Everything. Anything.”

She told him about work and watched the expression on his face soften and smooth a little. She talked about Quincey and heard him actually laugh. She moved on to what she was reading.

“Oh, I like the book ya sent me. Thanks,” he said.

“Yeah? Where are you in it?”

“Yeah, it’s good. The writer doesn’t know shit about break-ins, but… anyways, they just found that cave.”

“Oh, you have to tell me what you think about the next part.” She grinned.

“Yeah, I will. But anyways, what’s been…”

A guard came up behind him and said something; she couldn’t hear.

“Can I have a minute?” she heard Tora say faintly; he was holding the phone away from his face. The guard shook his head, his lips moved.

“Bye sweetheart,” Tora said into the mouthpiece. And then he was on his feet and being herded back out the door.

\---

She slept well, at least by her new standards. The visit had been too short, and too distant, and altogether hard, but she had seen him. She had heard from him. He had promised to call. She passed a dreamless night and woke both groggy and rested.

It was late; how many hours had she slept? Well, it was overdue. She thought, _I should get up. Coffee. Breakfast._ But she wasn’t ready to get out of bed or face the world. Outside the guest room meant making chit-chat with Quincey. She didn’t want to talk with anyone.

“Fudge,” Poppy muttered to herself. She checked her phone, then found herself flipping through her photos. She didn’t cry this time. She did stop and linger on one of Tora shirtless and sleepy.

She could almost picture him next to her. How warm he would be under the blankets with her.

And how hard. He usually woke up hard. She’d been late to work more than once because of that. Poppy smiled and bit her lip.

She zoomed in on the photo. It had been so long; too long. She suddenly found herself regretting their no-dirty-pictures rule. It had seemed smart at the time, and entirely reasonable. With him gone, she wished she had something to remind herself of what lay under the sweatpants in the photo she was staring at.

She _did_ have memories.

She had been horny for a while now, but too angry to really enjoy herself or do anything about it. Thinking about him had made her too sad. Thinking about anyone else had been too confusing, with everything going on between them.

She wasn’t angry now. At least, not _as_ angry.

Poppy closed her eyes and slipped a hand under her pajama shorts. She tried to remember how his lips felt. She touched herself slowly and started to catalogue dirty memories in her head. All too easy; there were so many of them. Her opening felt swollen, her fingers wet with herself. She groaned.

Her phone buzzed and she jerked away from herself like a startled cat. Panting, Poppy looked at the screen. Unknown number. With a trembling finger, she hit _answer._

“Hello?” she asked.

< _AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL. >_


	3. Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: dialogue includes a convo about a previous sexual encounter that may sound a little rough; not sure if it needs a heads up but just in case.
> 
> -
> 
> I know some people may be turning to fic to escape from current events, but since I’m writing a story about someone who’s in prison, I feel I need to mention this at least once.
> 
> The U.S. is currently dealing with its long, appalling history of police brutality and racism. Our prison system is a piece of the same puzzle. We have the highest incarceration rate in the world and it disproportionately affects people of color due to many problems including over-policing and rampant inequality.
> 
> I’m writing this fanfic because I like a little angst, I like torturing our duo, and I may have a thing for the idea of Tora in handcuffs (albeit preferably attached to a bedpost). The reality is, as I’m sure you already know, prison is NOT sexy; I’m trying to be realistic about some of the hardships but still feel the need for a disclaimer. This work shouldn’t be construed to glorify or trivialize incarceration.

< _AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL. >_

“Poppy?”

“Ah…Tora,” she breathed.

He paused before responding.

“You workin’ out or something?”

Poppy giggled and laid her free hand on her stomach, teasing at the elastic of her shorts.

“Actually, funny timing. I was sort of… in the middle of… _thinking_ about you.”

“Sweetheart, ya know this call is recorded, right?”

“I should probably care about that, shouldn’t I?” Poppy sighed. She stretched out her legs. The silky sheets felt so good, though she’d much rather have Tora’s rough hands on her instead.

“Are ya saying you don’t?” he laughed.

“Right now… yeah. I don’t think I care. I miss you too much.”

“Well… tell me what you’re doin’.”

“Hmm… I was just looking at this photo of you shirtless?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And my hand just kind of slipped…”

“Glad ya having some fun.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Maybe you could tell me what to do next?” Poppy asked.

A pause. She waited.

“Hell, Poppy, ya know there’s like a dozen other guys in this room, right?” he muttered.

“And usually _I’m_ the shy one,” she said.

“How about you just tell me everything you’re doing, real detailed?” his voice was a low rumble.

“It feels weird if I’m the only one who’s…”

“Not weird. I don’t want ya to stop.”

“Okay then. Well, I was just… um… playing with myself a little bit. I just started. Sorry, Tora, I… I have no idea what I’m supposed to be saying.”

“Then just keep doing it while we talk,” he growled.

“Okay,” she moaned to him as she slid her fingers back inside her.

“You wearing anything?”

She thought about lying for a moment, but that felt wrong. Instead she giggled. “Um, pajamas. With bunnies on them.”

“Cute. You wanna change that?”

“Yeah.” She kicked off the shorts and tugged off the shirt, juggling the phone to keep it at her ear. “Okay. Nothing now.”

“Good. What do you wish I was doing?” he asked.

“Making love to me.”

“…Yeah… how?”

Poppy bit her lip and sighed into the phone.

“Tora… When you called, I was thinking about… that cabin?”

“Cabin?”

“When we left the city for a night? I found that place to rent?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“It was freezing cold, snowy, but the place had a hot-tub?”

“Uh-huh. Go on.”

“…you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Nothing new about that.”

“No. It was different. You were cra-azy,” Poppy moaned and started to rub her finger against her clit. “That poor swimsuit.” It had been new, and lacy, and more revealing than she would have worn to a pool. She’d only gotten to wear it for a few minutes, but the result had been worth the purchase.

“Didn’t stand a chance,” he purred.

“You tore it like it was paper. And you pulled me on your lap.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But the moment I started touching you back, you had me up and bent over the side…”

“Yeah. I remember. Steam everywhere.”

“I was freezing… but I didn’t even care.”

“Why didn’t you care?” he breathed.

“Because then you were in me,” Poppy moaned. “It felt so good. I want you to do that again. I want to be alone like that again, just the two of us. Nobody for miles.”

“Me too, sweetheart...”

“I thought I was gonna fall over the edge of the tub every time you thrust.”

“You know I wouldn’t let ya,” he said.

“I kno-ow. But you were going so hard. Mmnn…. I wish… you were in me now.”

“Crap. Me too. Ya don’t even know.” He groaned.

“Unng… I miss you.” She panted a little.

“I miss you too. And ya know what else?”

“…What?”

“The walk back to my bed is gonna be real fuckin’ awkward.”

She giggled. “Are you hard right now?”

“Rock solid.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I got something nice to think about today. Ya still going?”

“Mmn… yeah. I am.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Your voice helps.”

“My nice, husky voice?” he chuckled.

“Yeah. That one.”

“Good, but I meant hands-on help.”

“Hands are good, but I had a different body part in mind,” Poppy murmured.

A long beep interrupted them. < _YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE REMAINING_.>

“Motherfucking goddamned shitty timers,” Tora growled.

“You have to go? Already?”

“Yeah. Uh, hey, Poppy? I meant to ask, can ya start sending me letters again?”

“If you keep calling.”

“Deal. One last thing?”

“Mmn?”

He whispered into the phone. She could barely hear him, but he made each word precise and unmistakable. “I’m gonna get us that overnight visit, and I’m gonna fuck you so hard when I do. You know that, right?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“You take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“I love you Tora.”

“You too.”

After he hung up, one of the waiting men smirked at him. Bax was bald, tattooed; the same man who had tried to talk to Poppy yesterday.

“That ya girl?” the guy asked. “I’d be hard talking to her, too.”

“Keep your bitch-ass mouth shut, motherfucker.” Tora snarled, too loud: the nearest officer heard and turned on him.

“Language,” the uniformed man shouted.

Bax grinned wide and slid past Tora to take the phone. “How many guys you think she’s been with since ya got locked up?” Bax whispered. “Maybe I’ll say hello when I get out next month.”

 _Not worth it. Not worth it._ Tora clenched and relaxed his fists. _Not worth it._

_Wait till ya got him alone._

\---

The week passed. On Saturday, Poppy woke up early again and drove to the prison. The interior felt entirely stale, but all she felt was excitement. She wasn’t angry or nervous like the first visit, which made it easier to deal with the long and intrusive admission process.

When her name was called, Poppy again followed an officer. Relief flooded her as they passed the room with the booths. Instead the guard opened the door to a large room dotted with small square tables. Each table had two chairs. At most tables, one of the chairs was already occupied by an inmate waiting for a visitor.

One of those men was Tora. He was leaning on his elbows, staring off at nothing. A moment after she noticed him, his eyes flickered over to her and he straightened with a smile.

“Oh my gosh,” Poppy said, and began to run.

“WALK. WALK,” an officer shouted, and Poppy stumbled still, then began to walk, her face flushed.

Tora stood up to greet her.

His arms were around her. Trembling, Poppy wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could and drowned in his embrace. He was warm, and solid. She could smell him; no cologne, just _him_. His arms. His chest. His face tilting down an inch above her own. His lips pressed hard against hers.

And then he pushed her gently away, panting a little. She didn’t want to let go.

“Sit down,” Tora told her, his eyes twitching away from her and towards a guard who was advancing on them.

Poppy sat. Tora sat. The guard took a step back.

Tora’s eyes were back on her.

“That’s all we get?”

He held out a hand. She took it. Tora laced his fingers through hers, never breaking eye contact. His golden gaze was intense, but she met it with her own.

“Hi,” Poppy said at last.

“Hey.”

“I can’t believe I get to touch you,” she said.

“Yeah.” He tightened his grip on her, then rubbed his thumb against hers. “Ya look real pretty.”

“Thanks, handsome.”

She studied him and gripped the side of her seat with her free hand to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.

“Is that a bruise?” she whispered, squinting at the neckline of his shirt.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Have you been fighting?” she asked, her eyes sharp and her chin lifted as she challenged him.

His mouth twitched. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have a bruise if I’d been fighting.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m… usin’ restraint.”

“So, what, some other guy hit you and you…?”

He leaned forwards a little.

“Gladly took his weak-ass punch, ‘cuz I can’t afford to get in trouble.”

“I’m so sorry,” Poppy said, her voice breaking. “This is… you don’t deserve…”

“Is what it is, Bobby. ‘Sides, the little snot panicked when I just stared at him without flinching.” He snickered.

“That’s not funny.”

He exhaled hard through his nose. “You’re hard ta please, you know that? I thought ya wanted me good so you could see me. Or did you change ya mind about that overnight?”

“Of course not.”

“Then don’t complain.”

“This is just hard, okay?” she muttered.

Tora shook his head. “Well, why don’t ya tell me what’s been going on in your life.”

“Not much. Just work, mostly. But I went out with Erdene and Quincey on Thursday, so that was fun.”

“Yeah? Where to?”

“Some club downtown.”

“Ya went to a club?” Why did he look so displeased with that?

“Yeah. To dance.”

“Where downtown?”

“I don’t know. We took a cab. Somewhere Quincey likes. Which is ironic, because he got upset at the bartender and made the poor guy re-do his first drink, like, three times. I think he was just being a diva. Mine was fine.” She leaned against her free hand and smiled.

“Uh-huh.” Tora’s voice was cold. His hand felt like an iron shackle on hers.

“Erdene got a little too drunk and we practically had to carry her out. She looked so sick at work yesterday.” She kept her voice light and pretended not to notice his mood.

Tora simmered. At last he spoke, his voice low.

“The fuck are ya thinking? Who’s gonna protect ya if something goes wrong?”

“I didn’t go alone, Tora. It was fine.”

“You were all drinking. I don’t want your cute ass going to places like that when I’m not there. Tons of guys at places like that just looking for someone to…”

“Places like what?”

“Drop the innocent act, Bobby.”

“…enough of my life is on pause, Tora.”

“If something happens to you while I’m locked up…”

“Nothing is going to happen. I thought it was a cute story. Let’s talk about something else.”

He fumed a little longer, his jaw tense, and looked away from her. At last he sat back with a sigh and loosened his grip on her.

“I need you to be more careful,” he told her.

“I am careful, but…”

“No. Actually careful. Ya should’ve made Gyu go with you, or…” his eyes snapped at her. 

“He was working, and…” Poppy's shoulders sunk a little. 

“Damnit Poppy,” he seethed. “Then at least don’t drink when you go out.”

“Fine.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise I won’t give you something to worry about again,” she said.

_Technically not lying. If I don’t tell him, he won’t have anything to worry about. And he’s being ridiculous._

“Good.” He loosened his grip on her, then his face fell a little. He looked at her with tenderness instead of anger. “You know what you mean to me.”

“Yeah. I know. So what’s new with you?” She was desperate to change the subject.

“Nothing.”

“I can’t picture your life in here.”

“I don’t wanna…”

“Sparknotes,” Poppy said.

“The fuck is a sparknote?”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “Just… highlight reel.”

“Lotta time to work out,” he said, and scratched his head. “Um. We all have jobs. I gotta clean a lot.”

“You? Clean?”

“Yup. You’re lookin’ at a janitor,” he said.

“I can’t see it,” Poppy said, laughing. “So are you telling me you’ll take over all the sweeping when you get out of here?”

“That depends. Ya gonna take out the trash?”

“I thought janitors did both?”

“Real cute. Funny.”

“I try,” Poppy said, with a wink.


	4. Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence, but not graphic?
> 
> Y'all's comments give me life. Thanks for reading! <3

Four inmates lay in their beds in the small cell. Nearly a half hour had passed since the last guard had shone a flashlight on them to make sure they were all in place.

One was asleep.

One was crying softly, quiet apart from the occasional sniffle.

One was jerking off, filling the room with a _fap-fap-fap-fap_ sound. His body moved in time, causing the bunk above his to shake.

The fourth man, the one whose bunk shook, was wide awake. He put his pillow over his head and scowled. It didn’t block out the sound.

“Keep it the fuck down,” Tora grumbled from under the pillow. The man on the bunk beneath him grunted.

_Fap… fap…fap…_

Tora tossed aside the pillow and hung his head over the side of the bed, glaring at the man below him, whose dick was at least covered by his blanket.

“Do that shit in the shower, man. Not here. Fuckin’ nasty.”

“Almost done,” the guy muttered, and sped back up.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tora grumbled, and lay back on the thin, hard mattress.

\---

“…that guy they called ‘Tiger of Ares Street,’” Bax snickered into the phone. “Yeah, no. Straight up pussy. No clue how those rumors got started. Uh-huh.” Bax leaned against the wall of the phone room and stared dead at Tora, who stared back with a face clean of expression.

Bax seemed to think he wouldn’t get what was coming to him, just because Tora had to play good.

He wasn’t going to be in prison forever. And sooner or later, he’d get Bax alone. It hadn’t happened yet, even though Tora had been waiting for a while. Bax did laundry; Tora cleaned the halls. There was always a guard when they ran into each other.

Why Bax was so hell-bent on pissing off Tora, Tora had no idea. Maybe he had fucked over Bax previously and forgotten about it. Or maybe Bax just felt like a big man, fucking with Tora while Tora kept his mouth shut and did nothing.

\---

A few weeks passed. He was so close to being able to apply for the overnight. Poppy visited again, like she did every weekend. Walking out of the room at the end of the visit, Tora touched his thumb to his lips for a moment and replayed their short parting kiss in his head. He was so close to getting her to himself again.

There was so much he wanted to do to her.

Bax paused in the hallway and held his hands out to mimic having a large chest. “Can’t wait to meet her,” Bax said.

There was a guard at the end of the hall.

Tora kept walking and said nothing. He hadn’t warned Poppy about Bax yet because he wasn’t sure Bax would actually be out anytime soon. Over the years in this life, Tora had seen plenty of guys who were positive their parole would go through, but who stayed stuck behind bars.

No sense in terrifying Poppy. He’d warn her, and the guys he trusted to protect her, when there was something to warn her about.

The nice thing about being in the lower-security wing of the prison was the freedom. Well, relative freedom. When he finished his visit with Poppy, there was still an hour and a half before he was supposed to report for work duty. Unlike the max wing, the showers were open whenever they weren’t on lockdown, and they got separate stalls. The walls were short and barely came to Tora’s armpits, but at least they were there.

Tora needed some privacy. The middle of the day was the best time to do it; the showers were always more crowded in the early mornings and evenings. Then some of the guys had to shower in the stalls together. But now, two of the stalls were empty.

He swung the door closed on one and stripped down before turning on the weak spray of water. He cleaned his skin and hair quickly; time was limited, and he had needs.

His cock lathered up with soap, Tora leaned one arm against the wall and closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the noises of the other guys around him and tried not to make noise himself. A fight that broke out a few stalls down was kind of a blessing. The guards rushed over.

He ignored the yelling and crashing, except from making sure it wasn’t coming too near to him. Tora exhaled slowly as he pumped at himself, running his hand up and down his stiff length and rubbing at the head with his thumb.

It had been nearly a week since he’d last found the privacy and the time. He was starved for touch, both from himself and from others. It was easiest to do it now, having just seen Poppy. Her smell and her shape were clear in his mind. Not that he needed much inspiration to do this, but there were a lot of distractions.

Like just now. The stall swung open behind him with a creak. Tora turned over his shoulder to see a small guy standing there, holding some shower supplies.

“Get the fuck out,” Tora said.

“Do you want some comp…”

“ _Get. The. Fuck. OUT.”_

The guy fled, and Tora turned back to the wall.

Fucking Christ. Was it so hard to ask for ten minutes to himself?

\---

The next day, a stroke of luck. Opportunity. Tora was mopping a hallway with some of the other janitors when Bax came down the hall pushing a laundry cart. The guard who was watching them got a call on his radio at that exact moment and poked his head into one of the rooms in the hallway for a brief chat.

A few seconds was all that Tora needed. He slammed the mop handle onto Bax’s back, then rammed his knee up into the man’s chest as Bax doubled over. The guard still wasn’t back. Tora slammed his knee up again. Bax’s body jerked up into the air, then came down hard on his hands and knees, the wind knocked out of him.

Tora whistled and sauntered down the hall, whisking the mop across the floor as he did. Nowhere he hit would bleed, and the bruises would only show if Bax were shirtless. Damn, it had felt good to do that.

“Careful, it’s slippery,” Tora called as the guard re-emerged and took in the scene.

Bax pulled himself up by the cart, his face a mask of anger. Nobody said anything as the guard resumed his watchful position. No matter what happened, no matter who you were friends with, nobody talked to the guards unless they wanted torture from every other inmate. It was their first, and most important rule.

“You’ll pay for that, motherfucker,” Bax muttered as he wheeled the cart slowly past where Tora leaned against the mop handle.

“Doubt it,” Tora said.

\---

The Warden was a big man: not so much tall as chubby. His uniform was tight; he needed to get a new size and had yet to. Tora remembered him from the last time he’d been in Prison, but his hair was whiter now. The Warden sat behind his desk while Tora stood just inside the doorway.

“Looking between these records, it’s hard to believe you’re the same man,” the Warden said. He had before him a file from Tora’s last stint in prison, and the file from his current one. “A month of near-perfect behavior? Seems like last time, you were in solitary every other day for breaking the rules.”

Tora waited and said nothing. His hands were clasped behind his back.

“Something change?” the Warden wanted to know.

“Got married,” Tora answered after a moment.

“Must be quite a woman.” The Warden flashed a lop-sided smile.

“She is.”

“If she’s keeping you out of trouble, I’m happy to grant your request for a family visit,” The Warden said. “But a warning, son. This is a privilege. Someone with a record anything like your old one—” The Warden waived the file in the air “—would not be approved. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, _sir_.”

“Yes. Sir.”

“Then get back to work, and don’t give me a reason to change my mind.”

\---

Tora had never been so happy to comply with a strip-search and a drug test. It was the last thing standing between him and Poppy.

After he put on the clean set of clothes waiting for him, he was handcuffed for the walk to the trailer. A guard led him through the fenced yard and to a small building. There was a heavy padlock on the outside of the door, and bars on the windows. It would have looked like a tiny house if not for the security measures.

He stood next to the guard in silence for fifteen minutes. It was just after noon, the shadows on the ground short and the glare from all the whitewashed walls painful.

Then he could see Poppy on the other side of the tall, barbed-wire fence, escorted by another guard. They made Tora stand far, far away from the gate while it was unlocked for her to come inside.

The guard beside Tora made him stand still. The guard with Poppy went to the house and unlocked the door while speaking to them both. “You’ll get two checks, one in the afternoon and one in the evening. Open the door right away when we knock. Phone inside for emergencies; it connects to the front desk only. Be ready to go at 8 am tomorrow when we come to get you.”

The guard gestured for Poppy to go inside. She looked back over her shoulder at Tora as she did.

Then the guard next to him undid his handcuffs.

Not running—not sprinting—inside that doorway was the hardest thing he thought he’d ever done. The door closed and locked behind him as he collided with Poppy and crushed her in his arms, his lips desperately seeking out hers. 

Twenty hours. Only twenty hours. They did not have a second to waste.


	5. Not Nearly Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ennnjoooy :) and let me know what you think!

He couldn’t keep his hands still for more than a second. Up and down her body. Touching, feeling, checking, squeezing, remembering. He pulled her shirt over her head, then his lips were back on hers. They stumbled through the house, blind to their surroundings until they landed on the bed. A trail of discarded clothes lined the path from the doorway to the destination.

They were both naked by the time they hit the mattress. Tora couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight. Everything he needed was in his arms. Their lips pressed, then grazed, then opened, then separated, then came back together tenderly. His hand slid down her figure to her pussy, where he dipped two fingers inside of her. It was easy; she was wet. She was as wet as he was hard.

She deserved to be pleasured first. He always tried to make sure that she came before he entered her, but Tora had been without her touch for so long. She felt ready for him. He did not have an ounce of patience or restraint.

He pushed his way between her legs and plunged his aching cock inside her, then began to thrust hard and fast. Mindless. Fevered. Swells of pleasure coursed through him as he delved inside her. Her tunnel was warm, and tight, and wet, and captured his length perfectly. Tora pulled his head back from her with a groan of satisfaction.

That was when he saw she was crying. He stopped immediately as a wave of horror crashed through all the good feeling in him.

“Poppy?” He whispered. He was still buried inside her, but not moving now.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged his head down to her, and kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back, but pulled away again. “Poppy, you’re… did I…”

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Please, Tora, don’t stop.”

“But you’re crying.”

“I missed you so much,” she said.

“Are you okay?”

“Happy tears.”

He stared at her for a moment, but she tugged his head back down to hers. He rested his forehead against her for a moment, breath heaving, and then closed his own eyes.

He felt damn near close to crying himself.

“Don’t stop,” Poppy whispered again. “I need you.”

Slowly, he pulled out and plunged into her again. The euphoria started to return as she arched up to him and let out a soft moan. With his face buried in her hair and his arms around her, Tora drove his shaft deep inside. Poppy moaned louder.

He lost it then. No chance of holding out longer. It was too overwhelming, being with her after so long. Lightning flooded through him, and he emptied himself inside her.

Tora rolled to the side, holding Poppy against him. His cock was still buried in her as he kissed her on the lips, then cradled her head against his chest. Slowly, he removed himself from her but kept holding her in place against him.

“Poppy,” he said. She didn’t answer but nestled herself tightly against him. “I’ll keep going, promise. I just need a moment.”

He thought about making her cum right then and there, about using his hands or his mouth to bring her the joy she deserved, the joy he had just experienced. But he wasn’t ready. He would soon. He needed to do that for her, wanted to do that for her.

But she was pressed against him. She was warm. Her skin was soft. He inhaled and let her smell remind him of happier times. Tora held her tightly, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through her long, wavy hair. Everything that mattered to him was here, in his arms.

\---

His arms around her felt so strong, and solid. She pressed her face against the hard iron wall that was his muscular chest and drew deep gasps of air. Home. He was her home.

Poppy would wait as long as he needed to go again. She was content just to lie with him, to breathe him in. But she wanted to feel him more intensely. She wanted no space between them. She wanted to feel devoured.

Poppy rolled onto her back and tugged at Tora.

“Can you get on top of me?” she asked. He obeyed, propping himself above her so he touched all of her, but supported his own weight. She looked up at his face, inches from her own. His intense golden gaze. His dark, straight hair spilling around them like a curtain. Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

She needed his weight.

“Lie down,” she begged. “All the way.”

“I don’t want to crush you,” he said with a smile.

“You won’t. I want to feel you.”

6’3” of pure muscle made for a heavy man. It was like being crushed by a brick wall. But it was glorious to feel him against her, and to be pinned between him and the mattress. She exhaled slowly and wrapped her legs around him, holding him in place.

“Too much?” he asked.

“No,” she breathed.

She could feel his bulge growing against her. Poppy smiled and craned her head around to kiss his neck.

“Already?” she whispered.

“Already,” he murmured back.

He pushed himself up from her and she drew in a deep breath, her lungs no longer crushed. Tora made his way down her body and buried his face between her legs.

Poppy gazed at the top of his head. Her eyes drank in his muscular shoulders and his tattooed back like she’d been trapped in a desert for a year and he was a jug of water.

Pleasure arched through her as he flicked his tongue over her nub.

“Oh,” Poppy breathed. Her eyes flickered closed for a moment, then back open to watch him work. Without drawing his tongue from her, he glanced up at her.

“Ahh,” Poppy moaned, seeing him look at her.

It felt so good, but her face and her torso felt so unattended to. She wanted to feel him all along her. She wanted to keep kissing him, and breathing him in. She wanted him to hold her.

“Get back up here, Tora,” she said.

“I want to taste you,” he told her. His voice was a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

“Later. Please. I want to kiss you.”

He came back up to her and kissed her delicately. She could taste her nectar on his lips. His fingers caressed her drenched slit and began to play in and along her as she swayed against him.

“Tora,” Poppy moaned. He kissed her again, his lips soft despite the insistence behind them. Their mouths opened and she felt his tongue against her own as he dug his fingers inside her sex.

A tremble began in Poppy’s toes and worked its way in waves of fire up through her body until it turned into an overpowering peak. Behind her closed eyes all she could see were flashes of black and yellow, explosions as her mind shuddered off. She couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t feel his kiss, or his hands, or his body; there was no space for anything other than pure and exhilarating joy.

Then she returned, panting, to herself. Tora was looking down at her with both arousal and tenderness in his eyes.

Poppy kept panting, mouth open. Her hips, which had begun to wildly thrust and buck, were still on the mattress now. Slowly, he drew his fingers away from her center and cupped and pinched her breasts instead.

He sat up. Then he was lifting her. She felt limp, like putty, but she’d help if only she knew what he wanted. But Tora positioned her, and then Poppy was sitting on his lap, his erection upright against her. He draped her arms around his neck, and she clasped her elbows to hold on. Then he was lifting her hips up and positioning her on him.

She slid down onto him with a moan of pleasure. Feeling his cock in her dissipated some of the happy exhaustion she had felt, and as the last orgasm faded a new one began to nudge its way into being.

He lifted and lowered her on him until lust lent her enough energy to bounce up and down herself. Tora groaned and pressed up, impaling Poppy on his length.

One hand cupped her ass, his forearm coated in their mingled juices as he guided her up and down on him. The other arm held her head against his neck, his fingers buried in her hair. Poppy helped as much as she could, raising and lowering herself as she rested her head against his shoulder and pressed her lips against his neck. He tilted his face around and down to kiss her cheek, and she felt his hard exhale as he moaned with his lips against her skin.

She felt his orgasm as a pulse that throbbed through her even as his hips fell still and his arm held her in place. With his shaft still hard and buried in her, he moved his hand from supporting her ass and hips around to touching her clit. Poppy writhed as he massaged her bud. Warmth flooded through her, and then another orgasm spiked. For a second, she lost touch with reality. Then she came back to him.

All energy went out of her, and she crumpled against him, utterly limp. Holding her tightly in place, Tora lay back on the bed and kissed the top of her head. She was on top of him, and felt herself rise and fall as he took long, deep breaths. She could feel the soft, steady thud of his heart under her.

Poppy tried to say _thank you_ but she couldn’t move her lips, couldn’t move her limbs; the climax was over but she had yet to regain control over her body.

But her ears worked just fine. Tora cupped the back of her head and stroked her shoulders as he whispered to her.

“You are everything to me, Poppylan. You gave my life meaning. I love you so much.”

She knew this already, but Tora usually preferred to express himself in other ways. He showed his love through his touch, and through gifts, and through the care he took of her.

She couldn’t let such a rare display of language go unanswered. But her mouth wouldn’t work.

“..ove ou,” she managed.

“Hm?”

“Love you,” she muttered tiredly.

He chuckled and pulled her tightly against him. “I know, sweetheart.”

They lay in silence for some unknown time. At last Poppy regained control of her limbs. She got up to clean herself when she felt his spilled seed began to slide out of her; the only downside of using the pill instead of condoms was the clean-up.

She smiled as she returned to bed. Tora was propped up on the pillows, still naked, watching her every move with his lips just tilted up at the ends.

“What now?” Poppy asked as she crawled onto the edge of the bed. “Should we eat?”

“Not yet.” Tora sat up to grab her around the waist and drag her back up to the pillows with him. “I’m not nearly done with you.”


	6. Havoc and Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally meant for the visit to be one chapter but it just KEEPS GOING and if you're really bored by now I'M SORRY. 
> 
> Content warning: there's a kinda angry sex scene in this chapter that is meant to be consensual but that may read as kind of borderline?

Tora pulled Poppy up to the top of the bed with a content sigh. She was soft, shapely, perfect. He couldn’t help but pinch one of her round cheeks.

“Such a hamster,” Tora said.

“Ah, stop!” Poppy squirmed and pushed his hands away, but he reached out to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her back in.

“Can’t help it,” he told her.

“You definitely can,” she muttered, her face buried against him.

“Well, what else am I supposed ta do with my hands?” he said with a smirk.

Poppy pulled her face away to mock-glare at him, wide eyes narrowed. “Don’t ask me. _You’re_ the one who said you weren’t done with me.”

“Huh.” With one large hand, Tora pawed her over so she lay on her stomach, and began to rub his hand up and down her back.

“Mmm,” said Poppy.

He got up to straddle her, a knee on either side of her hips. With both hands he massaged her shoulders. He rubbed his thumbs in circles down either side of her spine and ran his hands slowly up and down her arms.

“Feels nice,” Poppy murmured, her eyes closed.

Tora smiled and kept going, but didn’t answer. Before Poppy, he wasn’t used to making someone else feel good. That hadn’t been part of his life. Was it pride he felt now, seeing her lips part and the corner of her mouth turn up a little as he found a tense spot and kneaded it away?

Then there was a knock on the door.

Had he actually let himself forget where he was? He got up and found his prison pants, pulling them up while he tossed Poppy’s clothes at her. Wordlessly, he stalked to the front door. Two officers were waiting there. One had already removed the padlock and was holding it in one hand.

“’afternoon ma’am,” the taller officer said to Poppy as she appeared at Tora’s shoulder. “All well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Poppy said.

One of the officers stayed beside Tora while the other took a quick walk around the small house, emerging from the bedroom with a smirk. The officer eyed Poppy appraisingly, his eyes lingering far too long. Tora felt his jaw tighten as his breathing became shallow and angry.

If this were anywhere else, he would never stand for the way this guy was looking at Poppy and obviously connecting her with the mess they had made in the bedroom. But Tora had no choice but to swallow every instinct he had. One wrong move, and Poppy would be taken away from him. Instead he curtly nodded to the officers. They shut the door behind them and Tora listened as the padlock was secured.

He was used to having a leash around his neck. How was this any different? Why should this be any harder? Vincent, correctional officers, why did it matter who was treating him like a dog? No matter what he did. No matter where he went. He wasn’t a man. He was just an animal. For a moment he was even pissed off about the visit. This wasn’t some hand-outstretched gift of humanity. No, this was a reward to keep him tame, keep him docile, like some zoo animal the keeper had decided to pair up with a mate.

“Come back to bed,” Poppy said, placing an arm on his.

He shrugged off her hand and strode into the room. Picked up the blanket from the floor and hurled it back on the bed. Paced to the window, covered with bars. Turned. It had taken months of falling in love with Poppy to feel like a human. Then Vincent would strip his humanity away again. Poppy would give it back. Take. Give. Take. Give. Then the prison, take. Poppy, give. And here again it was just gone. It frustrated him how easy it was to lose that sense, to feel so demeaned and powerless.

Poppy was in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Tora?”

He huffed and paced the length of one wall. Turned, paced back. Everyone always acted like he was big, strong, deadly, in control. But he was just a pawn. He’d never be anything other than a pawn in someone else’s game.

She came to him and wrapped a hand around his wrist. He stilled, shifted. A part of him, the angry part of him, wanted to wrench his hand away from her. _Who are you, to try to calm me down?_

Poppy wasn’t a leash. Poppy was the one thing he chose. So he took a deep breath and followed her as she towed him back to the mattress. He stood in front of the bed but he drew the line when she tried to run her hands over him.

“I need a moment,” Tora growled.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m not in a gentle mood.” He peeled her hands off him and pushed her back on the bed, turned away. “You don’t want me touching you, Poppy. Not when I feel like this.”

“That’s for me to decide,” Poppy said. She came up behind him and touched his back. He shuddered, then relaxed his shoulders marginally.

Tora turned over his shoulder to look at her. She was kneeling on the edge of the bed, scant inches behind him. Her open hand still rested against his spine. Her hair fell in a tangle of messy waves. Her eyes didn’t hold the pity that he’d expected. She looked angry and fierce.

“What?” Tora growled.

“Don’t waste the time we have,” Poppy said.

“I’m not some trained dog,” he snapped at her, spinning to face her. “I can’t just _perform_ for you on command.” He regretted the words even as they were coming out of his mouth. She wasn’t the one he was mad at. His chest heaved as Poppy sat back on her heels and regarded him.

“Fine,” Poppy said at last. “Do what you want, Tora.”

“What I _want_ ,” he seethed. He took a few steps back from the bed, then to it again. He grabbed her face in his shaking hands and kissed her roughly, then let go of her and stared her down.

Poppy stripped out of the clothes she’d hastily thrown on. Why did he feel his cock stirring to life again, even after the times they had already gone? Even against his anger, his frustration, his brokenness? He didn’t know how to navigate all of this. Fury. Despair. And in front of him, Poppy.

He stripped out of the pants and came onto the bed. Took her in his arms. Heaved a ragged breath in.

“Tell me what the fuck to do, Poppy,” Tora said, his voice choked with emotion. 

She wrapped her hands around him and kissed his chest.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Tora,” she whispered back, her voice just as emotional.

“I’m asking you to,” he said.

“Tell me how you feel,” she told him.

“Fuck.” He took a hand away from her to run it through his hair. Shook his head. Swallowed. “I… out of control. Helpless.”

“You want to just lie here and talk?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Sex?”

“Maybe.”

He felt her hand press against his chest, then trace down his abs to where his cock was half-stiff. As her hands wrapped around his length, he felt a pulse of blood. He grew a little longer, a little harder. Poppy slipped down until her lips were wrapped around him. He tilted his head back and gritted his teeth as he became fully engorged. Fire flooded him but did not soothe his savage mood.

He pulled her up off him.

“I want to fuck you,” he growled at her. She nodded agreement and he turned her over onto her stomach. Tora got off the bed. Standing, he grabbed Poppy by the hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed. She was on all fours now, her hips angled up at him. He reached between her legs. She was slippery with wetness, from now or from before. He held her hips in place and slid his cock back inside her.

Tora held her in place and closed his eyes. He shoved himself into her. Havoc and heaven warred inside him.

Poppy moaned and pushed herself back up against him, her hands sliding forward as she tried to find purchase on the sheets against his furious thrusting. He held her hips in place. With each thrust a rush of bliss. He slammed harder, faster. He needed more. He needed to block out everything but the feeling of him inside her. He needed to erase every aspect of his life apart from her.

His breath was heavy. Apart from her hips, her ass, her thighs, she felt so far away from him. She was his anchor the world, to sanity. Tora pushed them both forward, pinning Poppy flat onto her stomach as he came onto the bed. One hand under her hips kept them angled up so his cock could keep slipping easily in and out of her tunnel. The other hand worked its way under her to grab one breast. He dug his fingers into her flesh.

With a low moan, Tora kept thrusting into her as he buried his face just above Poppy’s. She twisted a hand around to touch his arm, and linked one of her ankles around his leg. Tangled together. Nothing else. Nobody else. She was his wife. Together for good. He drove himself in a final time and kept pressing into her as he released.

\---

At last Poppy squirmed out from under Tora. He didn’t move as she ran her hands over his back. She tugged him into her arms and he shifted a little, still wordless, eyes closed. It took a long time of holding him and stroking at him for his breath to deepen and even out, and for his muscles to relax all the way.

“I need to shower,” he said at last.

“Want company?” she asked.

Tora nodded. He pushed himself up from the bed and to the bathroom. He turned on the water while Poppy explored the contents of the bathroom shelf. Thin towels. Individual soaps, like you’d find in a hotel. Condoms. Tora vanished into the shower as she unwrapped a bar of soap and grabbed a shampoo.

He was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. He opened them when Poppy joined him. One of his arms reached out to wrap around her and pull her to him.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly.

“Don’t be.” Poppy set down the shampoo and held the soap under the water for a moment. “Let me wash you.”

“You do too much for me,” Tora said, but he closed his eyes again and let her run the soap over him.

She was quiet for a bit, thoughtful, trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t,” Poppy said at last. “Sometimes I think I don’t do nearly enough. After everything you’ve been…”

“Don’t,” Tora said, his voice flat. “Not now, Poppy. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay,” she said. He took the soap out of her hand and began to perform the same service for her. Despite the mood he hadn’t fully pulled himself out of, his hands were tender and gentle on her. He followed every curve of her body lightly with the soap, rubbing suds into her skin. When he finished, he gently guided her into the stream of the water to wet her hair. Tora squeezed shampoo in one hand, then began to run his hands through her mane. He massaged her scalp and worked her head into a lather.

After he rinsed her hair clean, Poppy put shampoo into her own hand and tried to reach his head.

“Um, you might have to bend over a little.”

“Shorty,” he said with a half-smile, and obliged. She worked his dark, wild hair into a lather, but he stood to rinse it himself, tilting his head back as water droplets ran over his body and traced his muscular form. Poppy eyed him admiringly, still unable to take for granted that the beautiful man in front of her was hers to keep.

When they were both clean, Tora wrapped her in a hug. They stood under the warm water for a minute, arms wrapped around each other. At last, with a sigh, he reached back and turned off the shower. They toweled off. Tora put on his boxers; Poppy put on panties and her shirt, no bra. She was going to pay tomorrow for not brushing her hair, but she shrugged it off and let it dampen the back of her shirt as she watched Tora stretch. A note of satisfaction bumped in her heart at his soft smile. The mood was gone, chased out.

“Let’s eat,” Tora suggested. She followed him to the kitchen, looking about with some interest. It almost felt like a real apartment on the inside, albeit undecorated and sparse. Tora opened the door to the fridge and Poppy came up behind him to wrap her arms around his bare chest.

He pulled out the Styrofoam containers of food that had been left for them, balancing the boxes in one hand while shutting the door to the other. He put the food on the counter. Poppy followed him, arms wrapped around him, not letting go.

“You’re gonna trip me,” Tora said, putting a hand over her clasped arms.

“Don’t care,” Poppy told him.

“What are you, a piece of gum? A barnacle?”

“Is that any way to talk to your wife?”

He snorted and started to microwave the food.

The largest room in the little building was the first room, the one with the door. There was a couch and coffee table facing a TV, and a bookshelf with games and cards. Although the kitchen had a small table, they ate at the couch in silent agreement, because they could stay touching there. Poppy lounged against one of the couch-arms, her legs across Tora’s lap. The food was bland; neither cared.

“Is this like what they normally serve?” Poppy asked.

“Not tonight, Poppy. Please.” Tora said. “Can’t we be somewhere else?”

“Where? A getaway?”

“That sounds good.” He put his food on the coffee table and lay down the length of the couch, his head beside hers on the arm.

“A little cabin somewhere,” Poppy said, and reached over to put her food down as well.

“Middle of nowhere,” Tora said with a sigh. He closed his eyes and pulled her against him. She could feel his breath, and took a deep one herself. Poppy looked up at him after a moment. He looked so peaceful now, his face unlined and his mouth soft. His eyes were closed, his lashes long. His hair was still wet and lay plastered across his Balthuman brand.

She wished he could always be like this. She wished she was strong enough to pull all the demons out of his life. She felt anger rise in her, raging for a moment against how weak she felt, unable to free him from all the bad things that defined his life.

Tora took a deep breath. Poppy echoed it and pushed the thoughts away. There was no sense in getting angry at what she couldn’t fix, especially not when it meant missing out on the perfect moment she was in.

He opened one eye to catch her staring at him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before closing his eyes again.

_Yes_ , Poppy thought, closing her own eyes too. _A perfect moment._

Then another knock came at the door. The evening check-up was already here.


	7. Sleepless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading; thank you to everyone commenting. Let me know what you think!

He couldn’t say why the second check bothered him less than the first; perhaps because they were semi-clothed and on the couch when it came. When the check was finished, Tora leaned against the door and took a deep breath, willing himself to keep calm.

“You know what that means, right?” Poppy asked as she sat back onto the couch.

“What?”

It was dark outside now, and she was illuminated by a small lamp next to the couch, casting half her face into shadow as he studied her and waited for a response.

“That’s the last check, isn’t it? No more interruptions.”

She was right. The rest of the night would be theirs, and theirs alone. That was a good thought, a thought worth doing something about. He lifted her from the couch and carried her into the bedroom while Poppy giggled.

“Seriously?” she asked. “Again?”

“I never finished goin’ down on ya,” he said as he tossed her onto the bed and peeled off her pants and underwear in one long motion. “And ya said I could, ‘later.’”

“True, but…”

Whatever Poppy was going to say was cut off by her gasp as he lowered his mouth to her center and kissed her firmly there. Tora rose to take off her shirt next and felt his mind lose its edge.

If somebody asked him a simple question right now, he didn’t think he’d be able to answer. He wasn’t intending to fuck her again, at least not with anything but his mouth, but he was stiffening, nonetheless. Her smell, her skin, her beauty, flooded him with mindless desire.

He lowered his face between her legs and tasted her. She moaned in encouragement and pressed her thighs together, gripping the sides of his head.

Although Tora didn’t drink, he thought he knew what being drunk felt like. It felt like being between Poppy’s thighs. It felt like holding her naked body in his arms. It felt the way she sounded as she crooned his name and arched her back. In that moment he couldn’t have walked in a straight line if he wanted to. Luckily, there was no need to move. He buried his tongue in her and then licked her clit.

When she finished, she reached down to take his cock, but he stopped her by wrapping her in his arms. He could probably go all night. He could probably keep burying himself in her and rising again to the invitation with little coaxing.

But the truth was—the truth was, no matter how good being inside her felt, he had missed her company even more than the place between her legs. He was happy just to hold her. He wanted, for a moment, just to hold her. They had not turned on the bedroom light, but the prison yard’s floodlights shone between the slats of the blinds. Lines of light curved over her body, revealing her form even as she lay in darkness against him.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered in his ear.

“S’okay,” Tora murmured. He buried his head in her hair, but she smelled different; prison shampoo instead of the floral wash she normally used. Still, lying underneath the soap, he could find Poppy’s own scent. Like spring. Like rain.

“I don’t mind,” Poppy said.

“I know. I wanna hold ya.”

“Okay, then,” Poppy said. She yawned. “You want to sleep soon? I’m so tired.”

“I’m not sleeping tonight.”

“Me neither, then.”

“You can sleep if you want,” he said, and stroked her hair. But Poppy shook her head no and nestled against him.

They talked a little, on and off; shifted positions now and then. Got up to get a drink of water. By 2 am, Poppy was struggling to keep her eyes open. She kept insisting she’d stay up, but by 3 she was breathing evenly in his arms, her shoulders rising and falling. A strand of hair fell across her face. Slowly, trying not to wake her, Tora tucked it back.

She was using one of his arms as a pillow, and it started to cramp under her. There was no way he was going to make Poppy move, though. He could deal with it. Better to let discomfort burn through him than to disturb the angle quietly snoring in his arms.

He did wake her, at last, when sunlight began to replace the floodlights. Poppy rubbed her eyes and blinked around the room in confusion, groggy with some 3-hours of rest. She yawned and nestled back against him, then pushed herself up. He stretched the arm and felt needles prickle through it, then fade.

“How much time do we have?” she asked.

“Maybe two hours?” Tora told her.

“Did you sleep?” she asked, covering a yawn.

He shook his head.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“Question is, why didn’t I make you sleep earlier. Ya gotta drive home after this.”

“Please, let’s not talk about goodbyes,” she said, her voice cracking a little.

“Breakfast?” he asked.

“No. Not worth the time.”

She pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

\---

Half an hour before the guards were going to come, Tora sat on the edge of the bed and watched helplessly as Poppy dressed. They were both oddly guarded now, each trying to stop from falling apart. She finished with her socks and came to sit next to him. She took one of his hands and laced her fingers through his, then slowly leaned her head against his shoulder.

Their last moments slipped away from them. The guards came. They escorted Poppy away and stood watch as Tora scrubbed out the shower, and stripped the sheets off the bed, and wiped down the surfaces. He tied the trash bag closed and left it where they pointed. Then a strip search, then a drug test. He was silent through it all. What was there to say?

By the time the whole ordeal was finished, it was lunch in the cafeteria. Blinking back exhaustion and rubbing sand from his eyes, the big man shuffled through the line and found a table to sit at. He ignored the guys talking and joking around him and tried to eat, but he had no appetite. He forced himself to anyways, knowing he’d need the energy to make it through the rest of the day.

Mail call, half an hour before he’d have to report for his janitorial shift. He cleared his tray and waited in the small crowd to hear whose names would be called.

“Tora,” the officer at the front said. He accepted the letter and ignored the grumbles around him. He was one of the few whose name was called almost every single day. Some of the guys who had been there a long time never got mail anymore, not even once a week or once a month.

He opened the letter and read it leaning against the wall, smiling for the first time since he’d woken Poppy up in the morning. There was a long delay between when the mail came and when it was received; her letters were always at least a few days old. In this one, Poppy had just found out that they would have their overnight visit. He ran a finger over her handwriting, the ink sparkly and changing colors every few lines. He cracked a grin for a moment at the stupid little drawing she’d done of an excited, dancing hamster. Cute.

He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, then walked to his cell. Just enough time to put it with the others and make it to his shift on time.

In the cell, Tora lifted the corner of his mattress, then blinked.

“No.” He lifted the whole thing.

“ _No._ ”

He threw the mattress on the floor and turned it over. Took off the sheets. Threw the mattress back up on the bed.

“ _What the fuck._ No.”

He pawed through everything else he owned, his eyes dragging desperately around the room as he breath suddenly became short and shallow. He was allowed to have those letters. He was allowed to keep those letters. An officer couldn’t have taken them. No. Fuck. Right?

He gulped in air and tried to keep his cool. It wouldn’t have been so hard if he’d had sleep. But he’d just lost the most precious things he owned in this godforsaken shitty hell-hole, and right now the only energy he had was adrenaline.

He ran out of the cell. The prison layout meant he was on the second floor, an open ring that allowed a view down to the central area below. His gaze slipped over the balcony. There, one floor down, was Bax. His nose was buried in a piece of familiar, colorful stationary.

“ _OI! MOTHERFUCKER!”_ Tora bellowed, leaning over the balcony, and gripping the railing with white-knuckled hands.

“Hey, Tora,” Bax said, looking up with an evil grin. “You’d think they wouldn’t leave the return addresses on these things, huh?”


	8. Roadkill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: violence. Also, although nothing explicitly non-con, a guy who alludes to bad intentions of that sort.
> 
> I have to admit, I am so excited to write the next chapter! Let me know what you think of this one...

Tora could move fast—impossibly fast. It was maybe a 15-foot drop from the second floor down to where Bax stood. Tora vaulted over the balcony. He dropped his grip to the lowest bar, so his feet were about nine feet off the ground, and fell to the floor in a crouch. All this was done in less than a second, but the moment he’d started to move, Bax had started to run.

Pointless. Running from Tora was pointless. The big man lunged forward out of his crouch. He hadn’t taken more than two wide strides before someone huge tackled him from behind. Exhaustion had narrowed his focus to one target, blurring the risks his surroundings held.

There was an arm around his neck, and a heavy weight on his back tripping him. Tora ripped the grip away like it was nothing. He violently threw the attacker off him and onto the ground; the guy landed hard on his heels and rushed forward again. The fuck?

It was one of the lifers, a massive guy who went by Roadkill instead of a real name. He’d been in the nine-daggers clan, but Roadkill didn’t seem to give much of a shit about clan wars now; he wasn’t ever getting out. Tora ducked away from a punch easily and snapped his fist into Roadkill’s stomach, a layer of fat that hid muscle underneath it. Roadkill doubled over and a crowd closed around them, ringing them in and egging on the fight.

The hell problem did Roadkill have with him? Did he just want to fight? That happened in here, but even with Tora refusing to fight back (most of the time), hadn’t he made it clear not to back him into a corner?

Roadkill lunged forward with a grunt. Tora didn’t have time for this shit. He snapped his fist up under Roadkill’s chin. The guy’s teeth would have clacked together if his tongue hadn’t been in the way. Blood sprayed as Roadkill bit the tip of his own tongue. _Fucking amateur_.

Could Bax could have arranged this? Was Bax such a pussy he paid someone in cigarettes and other shit from the commissary to face down Tora? And was Bax such an idiot he thought a guy like Roadkill would be a problem for a guy like Tora?

Guards pushed their way through the crowd of inmates, yelling for order and dispersing the crowd with batons. Suddenly Tora understood.

_Fuck. Didn’t think I was that goddamned stupid,_ he had a moment to think before a cloud of pepper spray shot into his face and the electric shock of a taser-gun jerked his body up into the air. Fire. Fire. His face was on fire. His eyes were burning.

This wasn’t happening because Bax was a pussy, or an idiot. This was happening because Bax was up for parole tomorrow, and Tora had taken the bait like a goddamned idiot. Bax wouldn’t get into trouble. Only Tora and Roadkill would get in trouble.

A baton slammed into his back and then into his knees.

_“ON THE GROUND! GET ON THE GROUND!”_

His face was still on fire. He couldn’t see, could barely breath without coughing and hacking. Each breath burned his lungs. He was going to suffocate. Just pepper spray, he tried to remind himself. Just pepper spray. Tears streamed down his face, not from emotion but a natural bodily response to the pain searing his eyeballs.

Handcuffs closed around his wrists. 

He tried to scream, tried to tell the guards that Bax set him up. Tried to say he needed to make a call. Tried to say Poppy was in danger. Tried. Couldn’t. He couldn’t get enough air to scream. He could barely get enough air to keep himself going.

He was on his feet, blind, being herded somewhere. He at last got his breath.

“ _LET ME--”_ he started, but the taser lurched through him. Then the handcuffs were released and a foot on his back pushed him forwards. A heavy door slammed into place.

He threw his body against the door. It was already locked. He kept slamming into it as his vision cleared.

The room was familiar. He’d spent enough time in cells like it; this wasn’t his first prison stint. Solitary. The room was small and blank. A thin mattress on the floor, a metal toilet in the corner. No windows apart from a 1-ft square of bars on the door and a slit at the bottom that he knew from experience food would be pushed through.

“LISTEN! FUCK! HEY! I NEED TO MAKE A CALL! SHE’S IN DANGER!” He screamed. He slammed the door. He screamed again. Nobody answered.

Tora yelled again. And again. He yelled until he was hoarse. He punched the door, hard. He punched it again.

The first two knuckles on each of his fists were swollen from years of combat and training; these were the two knuckles you hit with to avoid fracturing your hand. Layers of skin had built up over the years. Tora’s knuckles hadn’t bled in years; the skin there was as tough and hardy as skin could be made.

But the door was hard steel, unforgiving, unmoving. He slammed his fists against it and heaved and punched again, and again, until his hands broke open and smeared the door with blood.

He drew in big gulps of air. Panic rose up in him. He was trapped. Nobody was listening. There was no way out of the cell. Bax had Poppy’s address. If that scum really did leave, he was going to find her. Tora was trapped.

There was no way out.

\---

The first day after the overnight, Poppy waited for the phone to ring. It never did. She tried to stop herself from feeling hurt. She knew Tora was struggling in there, and that he didn’t react well to losing things. His mood had turned so sour the first time the officers had come to check on them. Probably, she though, the same thing had happened after she left. He just needed time to collect himself.

The second day, she waited again for a call. It didn’t come. She was in the kitchen heating up a soup for dinner and trying to accept that it was late; that if he hadn’t called by now he wasn’t going to be calling today. _It’s okay_ , she tried to tell herself. _Just think about how nice it was to see him. Give him time. He’ll call soon._ _This is just life, right now._

But that didn’t sit well with her. She wasn’t mad at Tora, not really. She was mad at life. Poppy tended to roll with the punches, to keep putting one foot forward. But everything just felt so unfair.

She wiped away a tear and took a deep breath, turning up the heat on the stove. Tora hadn’t even chosen the life he lived. Why couldn’t they have a nice home, and work normal jobs? Why did she constantly have to be afraid for him? Why did she have to sleep in a friend’s guest bedroom and spend every night alone while her husband was in a cell?

Quincey came into the kitchen for a glass of wine. He paused and his eyes widened.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

Poppy shook her head and took a deep breath, then blinked up at the ceiling, trying to hold it together.

Quincey came up and wrapped her in a hug.

“It’s just hard,” Poppy said, and let him hold her.

“I know,” Quincey said. “I miss him, too. I can’t imagine what you’re… look, let's take tomorrow morning off. You need some mental health time.”

“I can’t,” Poppy said, pulling away from him and stirring the soup to keep her hands busy.

“I think you should.”

“If I called out every time this got difficult…” Poppy shook her head and went to the cabinet for a bowl.

“I’m not speaking as your friend, then. I’m speaking as your client. And I demand a breakfast meeting. So you’d better tell Gil you’ll be in late, honey, because we are having ourselves a brunch.”

\---

The apartment was well-secured and on a high floor; high enough they didn’t bother with blinds. Stupid. Bax watched through binoculars from a similarly high vantage. Tora’s girl was hugging some blonde man, which made Bax laugh. He’d just been trying to fuck with Tora’s mind when he talked about her sleeping with another man, but apparently, he’d hit on something. That was too good.

The energy he was putting into this was a little crazy, for his first actions as a free man. But he’d had a bone to pick with Tora for years; some of his best friends had been taken out by that dog. When Bax told his clan boss he’d found a way to mess with Tora, he’d been rewarded and told to do whatever he wanted to do with the bitch. He could think of all sorts of ideas. Maybe he'd take photos for Tora. If only his phone camera could capture the infidelity happening in the window, that'd be the icing on the cake.

She’d left early that morning for work and come back a few hours ago. He’d been planning to go in that night, but he didn’t know what the deal was with the blonde man. He’d wait for her to go to work the next morning and take her then.

\---

The next morning Bax sat in an old beater just outside of the building, enjoying a spliff and waiting for Poppy to appear. He scowled as the clock kept moving and she didn’t come out. Maybe she was just getting a late start.

Then the door to the building opened. But it wasn’t the chick, it was the blonde dude. He was wearing an expensive coat over lounge pants. The guy trotted to a yellow sports car and took off.

Good enough. That meant she was home alone. He was tired of waiting and he didn’t want to spend another day on a stakeout. He’d spent too much time on this already; revenge was sweet, but waiting was boring. Especially because he was finally free. There were so many other things to do with his time now.

Bax left his car and took the lift to the apartment number he’d memorized from the letters he’d stolen. He tried the door. It was locked. He didn’t have lockpicks on him, and the apartment floor was way too high for him to try going up the outside for the windows.

There was something stupidly simple he could try. With a shrug, Bax knocked on the door. Time to see just how lucky he was.

\---

Poppy stood in the kitchen in slippers and her bunny pajamas. A crust for quiche was blind-baking in the oven, the rolling pin still on the counter on a layer of flour. A recipe book lay open in front of her. She bit her lip.

There were a few different variations to choose between. With an egg in one hand, Poppy tried to figure out if they should go with sage or dill for the filling. A spot of flour sat on her nose from when she had scratched it. Spots of flour dusted her pajamas as well.

Quincey had left to grab orange juice for mimosas. The store was just minutes away. She didn’t want to be in the exact same position when he returned.

Sage or dill. It wasn’t a complicated decision.

A knock at the door. Quincey couldn’t have locked himself out by accident, right? Probably it was a neighbor, or a package delivery. Quincey was always ordering something or other. Absentmindedly, still holding the egg, Poppy went to the door and opened it.

A bald, tattooed man lunged forward too fast for her to slam the door closed. He grabbed for her.

Poppy screamed and punched, smashing the egg into his face.


	9. Quiche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: more violence! Whoop.
> 
> Extra-long chapter courtesy of me cackling maniacally while writing and not wanting to break this scene in half. Reactions to what happened???

Tora wasn’t sure how long he had been in solitary. _Not too long_ , he thought, judging by the feel of his stubble under his fingertips. But time there blurred so quickly that even a single day was confusing. The lights never went out; day versus night held no meaning. The only things to mark time were the meals slipped under the door. Normally Tora kept track, but he had been out of his mind during the first one and had slept through at least a second, if not more.

The door to the cell opened slowly. He kept his hands up. They questioned him about the fight and he kept his mouth shut, except to say he didn’t start it. Then on to medical, where his hands were wiped off with something that stung like a bitch—alcohol? And bandaged. Then to the warden, who looked at him in disappointment and informed him that his contact visit and family visit rights were revoked until his record improved again.

At last he was released back to general population. It was morning, but what day? He ignored everybody around him and strode to the phone room, fighting to keep from running, fighting to keep calm, to breathe. It was okay. She was okay.

_She had to be okay._

\---

The egg might have temporarily blinded the man, but that wouldn’t last long. Poppy knew she had to act fast. She kicked him between the legs. He doubled over with a grunt. She punched his nose, hard enough to make it bleed.

Then she ran back to the kitchen. _Stupid! Why not out the door!_ Too late now. Instinct had propelled her away from the man rather than past him.

Her heart was in her throat. Although Poppy was too terrified to think straight, paradoxically her head felt perfectly empty and clear. Adrenaline gave her an odd coolness, her body knowing this was a life-or-death scenario. She might not make the right decisions, but she was hyper focused.

Okay. Weapon, weapon. Knife? No. Too deadly. Too bloody. Rolling pin? Perfect. She grabbed it and plunged her hand into the bag of flour still out on the counter, getting a handful. Poppy jumped behind the doorframe just as Bax crashed around the corner.

She threw the flour into his face, hoping to blind him a second time, then slammed him in the temple with the rolling pin. He lashed out and grabbed at her. One hand landed a blow on her shoulder that would leave a bruise. The other hand ripped her pajama shirt open from ‘conservatively buttoned’ to ‘sexy, but not risqué.’ Poppy screamed and hit him again, harder, swinging the heavy wooden pin like it was a baseball bat.

He went down.

“Oh fudge. Oh fudge. Oh fudge.” Poppy transferred the rolling pin from one hand to the other, breathing hard and bouncing on her feet. Was he alive? He was, right? Oh god. What was she supposed to do? _What would Tora do?_

Okay, no, she couldn’t kill him. What _else_ would Tora do? _Think!_

“Poppy?” That was Quincey’s voice, alarmed because he had come home to find the front door ajar. Goop and pieces of eggshell lay in the entry.

“In here,” Poppy called back, her voice unnaturally high and cracking with panic.

_Thank god. Quincey._

Quincey rounded the corner. He dropped the shopping bag he’d been holding. The carton of orange juice landed with a thud.

There was a body on the floor. Quincey screamed, then covered his mouth, blinking rapidly.

Poppy screamed back, because she had been on the edge of losing it and Quincey had screamed first.

They both danced around like arachnophobes who had spotted a spider, intermittently yelping.

“Oh my god, oh my god, honey, what did you do?” Quincey said. It was harder to remain calm when he wasn’t prepared for violence. Coming home to find an intruder laid out was entirely different from going on a job with Tora, knowing what was going to happen and knowing that they were in control.

“Calm down! Just, just, calm down!” Poppy yelled, grabbing his sleeve.

“I’m calm! I’m calm! Oh my god!” Quincey raked his hands repeatedly through his hair and gulped air.

“Oh my gosh, he’s moving!” Poppy shrieked, dancing away from the body and wringing her hands.

“Hit him! Hit him!” Quincey jumped up and down and pointed at Bax.

“We need to tie him up! I can’t keep hitting him!” Poppy said, but she smacked Bax in the face again with the rolling pin. Bax flattened and stopped moving.

“Oh! I have handcuffs!” Quincey bolted.

Poppy couldn’t place it, but she knew Bax looked familiar. Someone Tora knew? That had to be it. She took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking. She knew her body was in full panic mode. She also knew she had to stay collected. She couldn’t lose it. Not yet.

Quincey returned moments later with fluffy pink restraints.

“Should we handcuff him to a chair?” Poppy asked.

“A chair? Why?” Quincey yelled, not angry, just panicked.

“I don’t know, it’s what they do in movies!” Poppy yelled back.

They hauled him onto one of the wooden kitchen chairs with a grunt. Quincey fastened the handcuffs around the slats on the back of the chair. Bax was slumped forward, blood coming out of his nose, One eye swollen shut. Yolk dripped down his face. Flour clung to his eyebrows, his eyelashes; dusted the rest of him.

Quincey took a deep breath, then another. Okay. Threat neutralized. He could do this.

“We should rinse his face,” Poppy said.

“Priorities, Poppy.”

“I’m serious! We could mess up his eyes otherwise!”

“Fine,” Quincey sighed.

Grunting and breathing heavily, they managed to scoot the chair over to the sink. Poppy tested the temperature of the water on her wrist and nodded, then Quincey leaned Bax’s head back. Quincey’s sink was fancy; it had a spray-gun on a little hose for dishwashing. Poppy used this to direct a stream of water around Bax’s eyes, then at the blood streaming out of his nose.

So, despite the best of intentions, Bax woke up to an experience not unlike being waterboarded. He started to scream, swallowing water as he did so.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Quincey yelled. Bax wrenched his head forward and coughed and spat.

“We should gag him,” Quincey said fretfully. “But I don’t have… I don’t know…”

“We could use a scarf?”

“Yes. Go grab one.”

Bax screamed again and Quincey slapped him.

Poppy ran to the coatrack by the front door. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing a blue scarf covered in brightly colored birds, wincing internally. It had been a gift from Tora, but this was not a moment to be sentimental. Unlike the other scarf on the rack, the fabric of this one was thin enough to hold a knot. She ran back to the kitchen.

Bax was taking deep panicked breaths. His face still a mess, water dripping everywhere.

Clutching the scarf and looking at Bax, Poppy tried to brace herself. Hitting had been one thing; it was fast and there had been no time to think about it. Gagging was less violent, but she was scared to get too close to Bax. She didn’t want to touch him. Quincey saw the look on her face and reached out a hand.

“Should we call Claude?” Poppy asked as she handed Quincey the scarf. The MMA champion was currently the bodyguard assigned to Quincey, though neither of them could stand him.

“Wouldn’t Claude just kill him?” Quincey asked. He shuddered and tried to get Bax’s mouth open. Bax clenched his jaw and turned away.

“Yeah… probably. You’re right.” Despite current appearances, Poppy and Quincey were both pacifists. It went without saying they didn’t want death on their hands if they could help it.

“We could try Gyu?” Quincey suggested.

Quincey pinched Bax’s broken nose and jammed the scarf in while the bald man let out a yelp of pain. Poppy heard Quincey mutter an “ _ugh.”_ The blonde man looked like he was about to throw up.

“We could take him to the police…” Poppy said.

Quincey wrinkled his nose. He stopped what he was doing, holding the ends of the scarf tight behind Bax’s head. “Seriously, Poppy…? We don’t call cops in this family.”

On the counter, her phone began to ring. Poppy jumped again and fumbled to answer it.

_ <AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL.>_

“Oh my gosh,” Poppy breathed, and hit the button. It was one of those strange life moments where the timing was so coincidental it felt unreal and impossible, but it was happening, nonetheless.

“Tora?”

Bax’s eyes widened at hearing the name.

“Poppy? Oh, fuck, thank god, Poppy, are ya okay?” His voice was panicked, breathless, but it grounded her more than anything else could have right then. Her adrenaline dipped. Poppy held back a sob. If she hadn’t been watching Quincey gag Bax, she would have immediately tried to figure out _why_ Tora was freaked out. Right now, it just seemed normal to her.

“I, I’m fine, Tora, I’m okay.” The panic in her own voice was obvious. Tora picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Fuck, fuck, Poppy,” his voice was breaking.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Just stuff, I… Quincey and I have it under control.”

“Listen, Poppy, listen to me, there’s a guy, I think he’s coming for ya…”

“Bald guy? Tattoos?”

Pause. “How… did you… Poppy, what happened? _Did he hurt you_?”

“No-o, like I said, we have it, um, under control. Or, are, um, getting it under control?”

“Poppy, what the fuck are ya…”

“Listen, Tora, we can’t talk about this over the phone, but…” she looked at the knot Quincey had just finished tying. He hadn’t held the scarf taut enough, and now there was slack in it. “Oh no, Quincey, you need to tie that tighter. No, tighter. Tora, I should go.”

Bax jerked his head, trying to spit out the gag while he had the chance. Quincey slapped him again.

“Stop. Put Quincey on.” Tora’s voice didn’t sound quite as panicked now. It sounded cold and furious.

Poppy handed the phone over without question. Quincey propped the phone between his ear and his shoulder, re-tying the knot on Bax’s gag. Quincey listened to Tora for a moment before he answered.

“Yeah, no, she’s… well, we don’t want to call Claude because…”

Poppy winced. Even from a distance, she could hear the yelling coming through the phone. Quincey almost dropped the cell phone when he jerked his head away from the loud shouting. He fumbled and caught it.

The gag slipped. Bax started screaming bloody murder.

Poppy grabbed the phone from Quincey. Quincey wrenched the scarf tight and tied it off, cutting off Bax’s scream.

“Hi, Tora, I love you, we’re fine, call me tomorrow, bye.” Poppy hung up. He was going to be so mad at her, but the call was being recorded. She probably shouldn’t have answered it in the first place.

\---

In the prison, Tora stood holding the phone in his bandaged hand for a good minute. The dial tone beeped in the background. His eyes were wide. Jaw open. _What the_ fuck _just happened?_

‘Tie it tighter?’ Bax screaming? The sound of a slap?

Part of him was, understandably, still terrified for Poppy. But truth be told, another part of him was reeling: … _wait, what the_ fuck _did my wife just do?_

\---

Bax glared at Poppy and swung himself from side to side. If he kept moving so furiously, there was actually a chance of him getting free.

Poppy picked up the rolling pin and grimaced.

“Please, please stop moving. I don’t want to keep hitting you.”

Bax grunted through the scarf and didn’t stop trying to break the restraints. From their dialogue he’d gathered they didn’t mean to kill him, so he had nothing to lose by fighting like hell to break free.

“Honey, you just aren’t very intimidating,” Quincey said with a sigh. Poppy looked down at her ripped pajamas dusted with flour and spotted with fluffy animals. She looked at the rolling pin and frowned.

Quincey picked up an expensive German-made chef’s knife. He crouched down at eye level with Bax.

“My, you’re an ugly one, aren’t you?” Quincey drawled, waggling the large knife in the air.

Bax reared his head. His muffled curses and insults were unintelligible apart from the angry tone. Quincey shook his head.

“Listen, honey, you should probably rethink that attitude. My dad wouldn’t be happy to hear you broke into my apartment, huh? So if I were you, I would try _not_ to make me call him.”

Bax huffed and kept trying to talk. He rocked the chair wildly.

“Nobody ever takes me seriously,” Quincey said with a sad sigh, and squatted back on his heels. “If they don’t know my last name is Balthuman.”

Bax went deadly still. His eyes went wide.

“Yeah. I thought so. Poppy, get Gyu on the phone.”

Poppy dialed the number and paced back and forth while the phone rang, trying once again to even out her breathing. Every time she thought she was calm, the reality of the situation bowled her over again. The phone was still ringing when the kitchen timer went off.

“Oh! The crust!” Poppy hit speakerphone and turned off the timer. She threw on oven mitts and opened the oven, keeping back to avoid the steam.

Bax watched and wondered if he was on some kind of hallucinogen. He understood being tied to a chair and gagged; it happened in this line of work. But being beat up by a woman in bunny pajamas with a rolling pin was uncommon. That the same woman was now wearing oven mitts and taking an empty pie crust out of the oven was surreal.

“ _Hey Pops_ ,” Gyu’s voice crackled through the speakerphone.

“Hey, Gyu, one moment.” Poppy ripped off the oven mitts, turned off speaker, and picked up the phone. “It’s kind of an emergency…. A guy tried to, um, break in?... Okay, yeah, at Quincey’s.... No, we… uh, we have him. Alive... Okay, thanks.”

Poppy hung up and nodded to Quincey. For a moment they all waited in silence.

Bax stayed slumped in the chair. Quincey stayed squatted in front of him, staring him down and holding a knife. Poppy stood by the oven, fiddling with her hair nervously. It would take Gyu at least fifteen minutes to arrive, probably longer. He had said he would bring a friend.

“Oh, what did you decide? Dill or sage?” Quincey suddenly said, brightly. Poppy knew him well enough to know it was a false cheerfulness. But she knew herself well enough to be grateful for it.

“What? Oh, um, sage. Uh, with tomatoes and the goat cheese.”

“That sounds great.”

“Are we really still doing that?”

“Cancel brunch? _Seriously_? Of course we’re still ‘doing that.’ I’ll keep our guest company.” He dragged over one of the other kitchen chairs and settled into it, eyes not leaving Bax.

“Right.” Poppy cleared her throat. “Right. Right.” She started to gather the ingredients she’d need for the filling.

\---

Poppy got the door when Gyu and his co-worker arrived. They walked into the kitchen.

Gyu took in a timer cheerfully clicking away, the smell of cheese, egg, and herbs filling the air. Young master Balthuman sitting in a chair, lazily playing with a knife. A bruised and bloody guy strapped in another chair with fluffy pink handcuffs and a bird-print scarf in his mouth. A rolling pin on the ground. Flour, puddles of water, and smears of blood everywhere.

“What the…” Gyu started. Then he cleared his throat. “You know what…? Nevermind. Just tell me what you need.”

Gyu’s associate watched Bax while the other three had a conversation in the living room. At last they decided on a course of action. Before long, Quincey and Poppy were alone in the apartment. Gyu had promised to return within the hour to spend the day with them and make sure they remained safe.

Quincey and Poppy hugged. Neither wanted to let go.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Quincey said hoarsely.

“Me too,” Poppy agreed.

“Honey, I had no idea you were so fierce,” Quincey said, leaving the hug to grip Poppy by the shoulders instead. “Where did _that_ come from?”

“Oh, well.” Poppy shrugged, not sure what to say. “I _am_ Tora’s wife.”

“Hm. Champagne?”

“Yes, please.”

Quincey took the bottle out of the fridge and two stem glasses from the tallest cabinet shelf. He poured the bubbling drink and handed a glass to Poppy as the foam receded.

For the first time, Poppy felt the hit Bax had landed on her shoulder. She wiggled her arm experimentally. She could move just fine, but it was starting to hurt now that she was calming down a little.

“To bad bitches,” Quincey said, shaking his head. “Cheers, Poppy.”


	10. Thin Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. My goodness. I am so flattered that so many people seemed to like the last chapter!!! Unfortunately, this one is, um, less fun. -cranks up the angst from 0 to 10-

Poppy didn’t sleep well. She kept feeling the rolling pin collide with Bax, kept seeing the blood on his face, the blood washing down the sink. She kept feeling her heart lurch and hearing a phantom knocking sound at the door.

But she got up when her alarm went off, and got dressed, and braided her hair. She left for work with Quincey still asleep in his room and Gyu asleep on the couch. She checked the hallway both ways, took a deep breath, and locked the door behind her.

The commute was uneventful. She arrived, got tea and a pastry, and began working.

Two hours in. They were going after another investor. Thanks to her success with Mr. Lam, Poppy was in charge of the proposal. She was knee-deep in research. Her desk was cluttered, her tea half-drank and gone cold.

Her phone rang. She paused the interview she’d been watching.

_ <AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL.> _

Poppy accepted the call while hurrying away from her desk and into the hallway.

“Hello?”

“Are ya okay?” Tora asked.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled. It was so good to hear his voice. Safety.

“Everything… taken care of?” He asked gruffly.

“Yeah, Tora. Everything is fine. It’s over.”

She could hear him take a deep breath.

“Where were ya? When it happened?”

“Home.”

“You and Quincey?”

“No, just me. Quincey came home partway through.”

“Shit.” His breath was ragged. “But you said… I mean, he… he didn’t…”

“I did okay,” Poppy said. “I mean, one small bruise, but I held my own.” she smiled weakly, because _she_ knew just what ‘held my own’ had meant, and then immediately realized that Tora had no idea. She had said the wrong thing.

“He hit ya.” His voice was flat and deadly.

“Tora, I’m fine. Really. Look, I’ll tell you the rest when we can meet in person. But let’s change the subject. I really am fine.”

A moment of tense silence. She shifted and fiddled with the buttons on her jacket. Tilted her head back and sighed. _Why, why, why did I tell him I got hurt?_

“Did ya call Claude?” he said at last.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” he snapped.

“Because of how Claude, um, _handles_ things. Anyways, we called Gyu right after we talked.”

She heard a hard exhale.

“…You get new locks put in?”

“Oh, um.” Poppy cleared her throat. “Well, the locks were fine…”

“What’d he do, kick down ya door?”

“No. He, um… he knocked.”

“Are you _shitting me_ ,” Tora hissed. “Fucking hell, Poppy, you _know better_.”

She blushed, frowned, and blinked back her emotion. “That’s unnecessary, Tora.”

“Not when ya acting like a _goddamned idiot_.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Stop.”

“ _Do ya have any clue how fucking terrified I was_?” Tora seethed, ignoring her. “Do ya have _any goddamned idea_ what it’s like ta be stuck in here and not know… and, and you just _opened the door…_ ”

“Tora, I…” her voice broke. Did he have to be so aggressive with her? And now, of all times?

“I was worried you were _dead_ , Poppy.”

There was a beep. < _YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE REMAINING_.>

Poppy bit back tears and spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what to tell you, Tora. It’s not like I put myself in that situation on purpose.”

“I don’t want you alone anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I said.”

“But everything’s fine, Tora.” 

“It’s not fine, Poppy! _It’s not fucking fine_!”

“Please, can we stop fighting? We’re almost out of time.” She wiped the tears off her face and drew a deep breath in. She’d had to fight to get the words out, and although Tora could understand them, it was clear from her voice that she was crying.

“…Are you coming this weekend?” was all he said, his voice cold and flat.

“Yeah. Of… of course,” Poppy said.

“Then I’ll see ya then.”

He hung up the phone.

In the hallway, Poppy took a last gasping sob. She stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket and scrubbed at her eyes, but she knew it was useless. She dipped into the hall bathroom to recover where nobody would see her, and to blow her nose. She’d had a hard enough time keeping it together before the phone call. To have Tora verbally flay her was the last straw, and then some.

In the prison phone room, Tora buried his face in his hands.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered. He lowered his hands to find one of the other guys staring at his display of emotion. Tora glared back. “What the hell ya looking at?” he growled.

\---

The next day was Friday. No call came.

She and Erdene decided to go out for drinks; Poppy certainly needed to blow off steam. Quincey texted that he might meet them there. Poppy organized her desk and pushed in her chair, then told Erdene she was ready. They trotted down the stairs, planning to catch a cab on the street outside.

But outside, one of the Balthuman men—Sasha—was leaning on the hood of a car. He straightened when she came out of the building. She recognized him because he had been one of the men under Tora’s command. He did his best to keep Poppy away from his work, but she had met Sasha a few times.

“Poppy,” Sasha said. He was a young guy with a pockmarked face and a pleasant smile.

“One moment,” Poppy told Erdene with a sigh. She went to the car.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, gesturing to the car.

“Sorry, what?”

“I’m supposed to take you home. And stick around. I’m your bodyguard.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m yo—”

“No, I heard you. Sorry.” Poppy sighed and shook her head. “Did Quincey ask you to do this?”

“Nah, big bro called me up.”

_Seriously? So that’s why he didn’t call me today. He was spending his call on… this._

“I have plans with a friend,” Poppy informed him.

“Well, I’m… he said to take you straight home,” Sasha said.

“What are you going to do, beat me up and drag me there?” Poppy asked sarcastically.

“Well, I…” Sasha looked uncomfortable and a little uncertain. He had a good relationship with Poppy; Tora had picked him because he knew how to fight but wasn’t a threat to her.

Poppy pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head once more, then gestured to him. “Look, if you have to do your job, come with us. You can even drive. But I’m not going home. We’re going to a bar.” Without giving him a chance to answer, she waved Erdene over.

\---

Saturday. Poppy showed up for the weekend visit, feeling both angry and hurt. But she had said she would come, and she did want to see him. She could use a hug, even if they were fighting. She went through all the check-in routines, and was eventually led down the hall and…

…into the room with the booths, the glass wall, and the phones.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake…_ Poppy thought, sitting down and burying her face in her hands while she waited for Tora to appear on the other side of the barrier. _What the heck did that man do this time._

\---

Tora was in a bad mood, just generally. But when he came into the room and saw Poppy sitting across the window, for a moment everything bad went away.

He strode to the booth quickly and grabbed the phone. Poppy had a dazed and upset look in her eyes, but she picked up her own phone slowly while his eyes roamed over her and catalogued every detail.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered to her. “It’s so good to see ya.”

She nodded, her shoulders slumped.

“Where’s the bruise? You sure ya okay?”

She pointed to her shoulder.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was fine,” she told him.

“Hard to believe it without seeing for myself,” he told her. “You sure he isn’t coming back, right?”

“I told you, we… handled it.”

Tora’s eyes went wide for a moment.

“Did ya…” he scratched his finger across his neck.

“What? Seriously? Of course not! Tora!”

He felt both relief and regret to hear it. He wanted Bax dead, but he wanted Poppy nowhere near that.

He wanted to do it himself.

“Okay. But how can you be sure he isn’t gonna… y’know.”

“Just take my word for it. I think you’ll understand soon enough.”

Tora glared a little. He hated being kept in the dark, but he knew better than to pressure her into saying more than she wanted to, given that they weren’t alone. Better he be upset and unaware than that she say something incriminating. Still, it made him feel agitated.

Poppy broke the silence first.

“Why did he want me?”

Tora licked his lips and took a deep breath before answering.

“He was in here. We didn’t get along.”

“Are you kidding me?” Poppy groaned.

“I tried to stop him,” Tora grumbled. “But he got out n’ I got in trouble. Anyway. Sasha doing his job?”

“You didn’t even _ask_ if I wanted a bodyguard, Tora,” Poppy snapped.

“You have one. Get over it.”

“You had no right to make that decision.”

“Sorry for fucking caring,” he snarled.

“You’re being a real corn nut,” Poppy said.

“And you’re acting like a fuckin child.”

Poppy took one deep breath. Then another. Then she turned the full force of her wide-eyed glare on him, her soft face suddenly fierce and furious.

“Okay, Tora. Let me get this straight. I had a terrifying experience because someone was mad at _you_ , I take care of it myself because _you_ aren’t here, and now _I_ get yelled at while _you_ tell me how to live my life?”

“It’s not my fucking fault that—"

“No, let’s get one thing straight, Tora: You’re on thin ice with me right now.”

“Did ya even stop to _think_ what would’ve happened if Quincey hadn’t come home?” Tora said, his tone a yell but his volume low. “You _need a bodyguard.”_

“For your information, _Tora?_ I had it under control _before_ he came home.”

Suddenly she was losing the battle to hold back her tears. They spilled out as she squeezed her eyes shut and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Tora’s jaw worked, his own eyes stinging.

“What now?” he growled.

Poppy heaved and looked down at the counter.

“I’m just exhausted, okay? I… I had a really hard week and… you know, you were the _one person_ I wanted to talk to, but all you did Thursday was yell at me, and Friday you didn’t even _call_ me, and today you’re just yelling again, and you know what, Tora? I’m tired of fighting. I’m going home.”

“Poppy, wait. Wait.”

She stayed on the phone but didn’t look at him. He pressed his hand up to the glass and tried to apologize. The words wouldn’t come. Tora felt like he was about to break down. He had done this. This was all his fault.

Getting caught. Going to jail. Angering Bax. Getting locked up. Unable to warn her. Her getting hurt. Her defending herself. And now all he could do was yell at her and rage at her, the only target he could find, and she was crying…

They didn’t usually fight like this, but when he did mess up he could find ways to apologize. If he didn’t have words, he could hug her. Kiss her. _Show_ her he was sorry. But he couldn’t touch her now. All he could do was try to talk. He opened his mouth. _Say something, say anything_. He choked on the words. They just wouldn’t come. He felt frustration rising, rising. He was sorry, so sorry. The words just wouldn’t come.

Poppy hung up the phone and walked away.

\---

Lunch, the next day. One of his bunkmates had bought cards from the commissary, and three of them were playing Rum. Tora didn’t speak unless he had to. He was in a mood. Cards was just something to do. Nobody particularly noticed; ‘too furious to talk’ was a common mood among the inmates.

The guy sitting across from Tora suddenly looked up. His eyes widened.

“Oh shit. Bro, look.”

Tora glanced over his shoulder.

Three new inmates had been led to the cafeteria and were nervously shuffling their way through the line. Well, two new inmates, and one return.

Bax. _Motherfucking Bax._ His face was covered in bruises; one eye was swollen half-shut. Returned from what he’d done to Poppy, or had she been implying something else by saying ‘we handled it?’ It was easy to break parole. All it took was a little slip.

Whatever. All that mattered was Bax was here, with Tora.

Tora slapped his cards down on the table, got up, and strolled over to the line. He caught an officer watching him. Not the time for revenge.

Just a little hello, then.

“Heard you met my wife,” Tora whispered to Bax. “We’re gonna have a chat about that later.” He clapped Bax on the shoulder and left the cafeteria. 

\---

If earlier he had found it hard to catch Bax alone, the truth was, he hadn’t been trying as hard as he was now. Earlier, he had just gone about his day and waited for an opportunity.

Now, Tora was _hunting_ Bax. Every free moment Tora had, he was wherever Bax was. Bax knew what was coming, but what could he do?

So later that very same day, not long before lock-up, Tora got Bax into a quiet corner and relieved some of his anger. Not enough to seriously hurt him, not enough to send him to the infirmary. Bax couldn’t hit back or even block the blows; he just wasn’t fast enough to follow Tora’s fists as they pummeled him.

Tora hit just hard enough and long enough to feel a bit better. There would be other opportunities. He’d find them. Hell, he’d make them.

Tora turned away as Bax wheezed and slumped to the ground, feeling thoroughly abused and deeply in pain.

“She’s cheating on you,” Bax said, the only parting shot he could land. The only pain he could hope to inflict.

“Fuck off,” Tora said, walking away.

“I saw it through a window. While I was staking her out.” Bax coughed.

Tora clenched his fists and kept walking. He knew better than that. Bax was lying, obviously.

_…right?_


	11. Love Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's trying so hard :(

_You’re on thin ice._ Tora flipped over in his bed and kicked at his blanket, trying to get comfortable. _Thin ice._ The night was half over, and he’d drifted in and out of sleep restlessly. He was wide awake again now.

He rubbed at his face with both hands and let out a quiet groan. _Thin ice._ What the fuck was that supposed to mean? She wouldn’t think about leaving, would she? After everything they had been through? After everything they’d promised each other? Everything he had done for her?

She couldn’t. Unthinkable.

_“She’s cheating on you.”_

Just as impossible. This was Poppy. She wouldn’t. She wasn’t the type.

What if that was why she didn’t want a bodyguard? What if she had a secret that she couldn’t hide, with someone tailing her 24/7? Something—someone—she didn’t want Tora to know about?

_Shut up and go to sleep. You’re driving yaself up the wall._

_She loves ya, for some crazy reason._

That was meant to be a calming thought, but all he could picture was her hanging up the phone and walking away. Poppy crying. Poppy saying, _I’m tired of fighting._

_Thin ice._

\---

He called her the next day. Tora leaned against the wall of the phone room, holding the phone in one hand and the phone cord in the other, his eyes closed. _Please pick up._

“Tora?”

“Poppy.” _Thank fucking god_. “Can we talk?”

“One moment. Jacob, I’ll be right back.”

“You at work?”

“Yeah. I’m going outside… okay. What’s up.”

“I just…” he swallowed and took a deep breath. “How we left things.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was flat and quiet.

“I shouldn’ta yelled. Sorry.”

A long pause.

“I know it’s hard for you, being in there,” she said.

It didn’t escape Tora that Poppy had not actually accepted the apology. He turned to pick at the brick wall with his finger, frowning.

“Ya mad at me.” More observation than question.

Poppy sighed audibly.

“It’s not… I just… I’m still dealing with what happened. And I get it, Tora, at least I think I do, but how you handled it? How you talked to me? That _stunk._ You have to know how that felt for me, after what I’d just been through.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

He felt a flare of anger and pushed it down. He couldn’t yell at her, not now. He had to deal with this another way. Anger was his easiest reaction, his go-to feeling. Poppy deserved better.

It was just hard. His heart felt like it was bruised. One big fucking ache. He didn’t want to feel it. Anger, lashing out: that was a way to escape the pain or at least divert it. Keeping calm meant feeling it all.

Poppy sighed. “Look. I think… I think I need a few days. To process everything. To figure out what we… um, how we…”

“Poppy…” his hand froze on the wall, the bricks rough under his fingers. “Ya not… you aren’t… thinking about…”

“I just need a few days,” she repeated.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I mean, maybe you shouldn’t call for a bit.”

“You don’t wanna talk to me?”

“It’s not like that. It’s not about… not wanting to talk, it’s… I feel like we’ve been on a rollercoaster since you got arrested, and I just…” she trailed off.

His heart was an erratic thump in his chest. He could hardly breathe. He waited for her to finish the thought, but she didn’t.

“Are ya gonna leave me?” Tora whispered.

There was a long pause. He felt so goddamned small. Sad, and terrified, and absolutely alone.

“What? No,” Poppy whispered at last, her voice both sad and fierce. “Of course not. Tora, I love you. I just need a little space.”

“Okay.”

Fuck. He was tearing up. He swiped at his eye and leaned closer to the wall so none of the guys would see. “When can I call you again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are… will you come? Next weekend?”

“I think so. I don’t know,” she said.

He didn’t answer. The fuck could he say to that?

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Poppy said at least.

“Yeah,” Tora said, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I do love you,” she said.

“I love you too.”

“I should get back to work.”

“Okay.” He waited for her to hang up. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? How the fuck was he supposed to fix things if she wouldn’t even talk to him?

He thought about crawling into his bunk and closing his eyes. That was all he wanted to do. But he felt sick to his stomach and his mind was racing. So instead, he went to the yard and pushed himself through the most grueling workout he could do with just his own bodyweight, not stopping until he was covered in sweat and breathing hard.

\---

A few miserable days passed. Tora stood in the prison yard and chain-smoked. If he kept this up the commissary was going to be out of stock.

He paced the barbed wire fence. He missed Poppy. How had things gone so bad so fast? Not even two weeks ago they’d been in each other’s arms, and the whole world had felt perfect. And then it had been absolute hell. Worrying she was dead or abducted. Fighting. Yelling at her. And now silence. Ice cold silence.

_Thin ice._ The words echoed in his head. He tried to swat them away and found them replaced with images of her fucking some other guy, some faceless figure, but he could picture Poppy perfectly, could hear her moan, see her eyes glazed over with lust…

_God fucking damnit._ This was crazy. He knew it was crazy. Bax would say anything, and this was Poppy. But it was so hard to get over his fear and to get the picture out of his head, stuck alone in here.

What would it mean for them, anyways, if she were fucking some other guy? Would it be over between them? Tora snuffed out the butt of one cigarette and started another, then reversed direction and paced around the yard the other way. No, of course it wouldn’t be over. He knew he’d never leave her. It didn’t matter what she did, she was his and he was hers. He’d just… just, kill the other guy, brutally, and then things would go back to how they’d… Ugh.

Tora ran his hands through his hair and muttered, the cigarette hanging out of one side of his mouth. He paused his pacing to lean against the fence for a moment. Then started pacing again.

She wasn’t cheating. Of course, she wasn’t cheating.

_But if I keep yelling at her. Keep making her cry. Only a matter of fucking time. And it’ll be my fault. Just like all this other shit._

_So get it together. Get it the fuck together._

He stomped out that cigarette, only half finished, and went inside. He needed to visit the commissary, and not for cigarettes.

Half an hour later, Tora sat on his bunk. In one hand, he gripped a tiny golf-pencil. Next to him was an envelope with a stamp on it. In his lap was a sheet of lined paper pressed against the book Poppy had sent him. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t much of a writer, but if he couldn’t call Poppy at least he could give this a shot.

He raised the pencil over the paper and started to write slowly. His handwriting was uneven and sloppy, and the pencil was ridiculously small. He could barely hold it right; all his fingers bunched up at the tip.

_Dear Poppylan._

\---

Saturday came. Tora wasn’t sure if Poppy would come. He wasn’t even sure if she’d gotten his letter. But he got in line to shower, just in case. The morning showers were awful, and he’d probably end up having to share a stall with another guy. But he wanted to be clean and presentable if she did show.

He avoided a fight narrowly, keeping to himself and washing as quickly as he could, growling _fuck off_ to anyone who got too close. Clean clothes, hair tied back wet. There was a line to shave, too, since you could only have a razor while a guard was watching. He waited impatiently through that.

He was in the cafeteria when an officer called him over.

“Visitor,” he was told.

_Thank fucking god._

He sat at the table they pointed him to, tapping his foot and clenching his jaw while he waited. At last she came through the doorway with the other visitors. Tora stood up immediately as their eyes met, and Poppy came over to him. She was wearing a baggy sweater and jeans, her hair loose, no makeup on. Stunningly beautiful. His heart hurt so bad, worse than it ever had before.

“Can I hug you?” he whispered.

She answered by grabbing him herself and tilting her head up to him for a kiss.

He pressed his lips firmly into hers as relief flooded through him.

She was right. This was a rollercoaster, but he’d be damned if he were ever getting off it. His arms wrapped around her, his hands pressing into her and pulling her tight until their bodies were mashed together.

“Break it up,” an officer snapped. Reluctantly, Tora pulled his lips off hers. For a moment, their faces stayed close. Then Poppy stepped back and sat down. Tora was slower to find his seat, but he did.

“I got your letter,” Poppy said. She took both his hands in both of hers. “Thank you.”

“I meant it,” he said gruffly, blushing. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep ya in my life.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” Poppy said, smiling weakly. “I didn’t mean to make you worry that I would.”

“Ya sounded pretty upset at me.”

“I was.”

“Are ya still?”

“A little. Maybe.” Poppy scrunched up her face. “But, Tora. Relationships take work. I’m not about to throw ours out just because I’m a little unhappy.”

“You shouldn’t have to be unhappy.” He tried to pull his hands away, but she squeezed them tighter.

“No, stop. Don’t shut down. Let’s deal with this,” she said.

“It wasn’t like this. Before I got locked up. Before that asshole. It was easy.”

“This is about us, Tora. We can’t just pin it on bad circumstances, or we’ll fall apart as soon as life gets hard again.”

“Then what are ya suggesting.”

“You can’t yell at me when you’re mad.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He blushed, embarrassed that he had. But she was right. She didn’t deserve to be yelled at. Hell, if he heard someone else were treating her the way he’d been…

“And we have to _trust_ each other. _Talk_ to each other. You should have told me about him when the problem started. You need to stop shutting me out and stop hiding things from me to keep me safe, because it doesn’t work.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“I mean it,” she lectured.

“Yeah, but… I can’t just change who I am overnight,” Tora said.

“We have to communicate. Like _civilized people_ , Tora. You at least have to try.”

“Yeah. I will.” He looked away from her and down at her small hands, wrapped around his big ones. The marriage band on her finger. He ran his thumb over it. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but fuck up, Poppy.”

“That’s not true.”

“Feels like it.”

“Tora. Look. We don’t have to get this right all at once, but I need to know that you hear what I’m saying, and that you’ll try.”

He nodded. Met her gaze. “Yeah.”

“Thank you. What can I do? To be better for you?”

“Nothing, Poppy.” He shook his head. “Ya perfect.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Tora. Come on. I’m serious about this communication thing.”

He swallowed and looked off to the side, thinking.

“Sasha. I need ya to have a bodyguard. Otherwise I’ll be freakin’ out the whole time.”

“Done. What else?”

He opened his mouth to ask her about the affair that Bax had mentioned. Closed his mouth again. He couldn’t. _You know it’s not real_ , he told himself, but a part of him couldn’t shake the fear of it. Still. This wasn’t the time.

“Let me call ya again,” he said instead.

“Yeah. Of course.”

They sat in silence for a moment, but it was peaceful now. All they could do was hold hands, but when that was all that was allowed, it became a sensual activity. Poppy pressed her fingers between his slowly. He ran his thumb over her wrist and gazed down at her, his face serious and intent. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, as she looked back at him and curled her fingers, stroking her fingertips up and down the back of his hand. They both smiled.

“Poppy. Are you doing okay? With what happened?”

“I’m alright.” Her face told a different story.

“Tell me.”

“I keep dreaming about it.”

“He’ll be paying for that a long time,” Tora growled.

Poppy’s hands stilled.

“Tora, no.”

“Poppy, ya can’t expect me to let this go.”

“What’s more important to you, Tora? Seeing me, or punishing him?”

He paused, honestly unsure what to say. Poppy sighed and leaned back.

“See, that’s a problem for me. I’m alive. He’s not getting out for a long time. And our marriage needs to be more important to you than revenge.”

“Course it is,” Tora muttered. “But how can I let him get away with that?”

“He didn’t. He’s back here, isn’t he?”

Curiosity had been nipping at him for a while. The guards were out of earshot if they spoke softly, and nobody was recording them.

“How’d ya even manage that?” he whispered to her.

“I _hear_ he got picked up with drugs and a gun. Apparently, that violated his parole.”

“Christ, woman.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Poppy said airily. “Anyways. Please, please promise you’ll be careful, Tora. I could really use another sleepover.”

He sighed and bowed his head.

“Yeah. Me too.” He gripped her hands tightly and lifted his head to stare at her, his amber eyes fierce with passion, his face serious. “I wanna be a better man for ya. I’m _gonna_ be a better man for ya. I swear it.”


	12. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!!!! NSFW drawing partway through this chapter, so be careful scrolling if you aren't alone!
> 
> So yeah, um.  
> 1\. It took me until very recently to realize I could totally be adding drawings to these stories, so if people like the illustration I'll start adding them--not for every chapter because -time-, but here and there. 
> 
> 2\. For anybody who is sad about all the angst, I'll go ahead and give you the spoiler that I love Tora and Poppy way too much to ever NOT give them a happy ending, so don't worry too much!

Watching Poppy walk into the overnight house, Tora felt a complicated mix of emotions. Lust, longing. But nervousness too. A little over a month had passed since he had written to her, and things were not entirely back to normal between them. They’d had many good conversations, both serious and casual. But with nothing but short visits and short calls, it was hard to connect on a deeper level. Impossible to connect on a physical level. She still had some invisible wall up between them; he could feel it. And in return, he was still haunted by the idea of her with a lover.

His handcuffs were being removed. Eagerly he strode into the house, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He had no clue what to expect, but he knew they both needed this night badly. He hadn’t even beaten Bax up in private, knowing that if he got caught now, Poppy would take it as a sign that he wasn’t putting the work in for their marriage. She was right. Seeing her was more important than revenge.

Whether they spent it fucking, or fighting, or talking, or laughing, their marriage needed something more than a fifteen-minute call could provide.

Poppy threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and standing on her tip toes to kiss him hungrily. He put a hand around her lower back and a hand on the back of her head.

The front of his pants was already tight, his cock fully engorged and pressing against her. All it took was kissing her and knowing he didn’t have to stop. Fuck. He was so ready for her. It had been so long. Tora restrained himself and tried to keep his hands from moving.

He felt like he was going to explode. But he refused to initiate any of this. He had a lot to prove to Poppy right now. At last she ran her hands up and down his back. One hand skimmed down his muscular ass and wrapped around his thigh. He groaned involuntarily and felt a pulse of blood in his shaft. He dug his fingers into her and pulled away from her mouth for a moment to keep from losing his restraint.

“Are you okay?” Poppy asked.

“Yeah.” He kissed her again, slowly this time, just brushing her lips with his own.

“Are you sure?” Normally, he would already have picked her up and carried her to the couch or the bed, and Poppy knew it.

He moved both his hands to either side of her face and looked down at her.

“You said something. Last week. ‘bout how I don’t give ya enough control.”

“Um, I wasn’t talking about sex,” Poppy said, blushing furiously.

“Still. I thought… ya might wanna take the lead.”

Poppy looked up at him. He was breathing heavily. A faint blush colored his cheekbones. She glanced down. His large cock was all but bursting out of his pants. It was obvious his lack of action wasn’t a lack of interest. She _liked_ when Tora threw her around a little and wasn’t sure how she felt about this.

But she also liked that he was giving her the option.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, peering up at him with her wide eyes.

“Sweetheart… do whatever you want,” Tora panted, desperately hoping she would do _something_ soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could restrain himself if she didn’t.

“Whatever I want?” she repeated thoughtfully.

Poppy stroked him through the fabric. He groaned and shuddered.

Tora had imagined that she would tell him how to pleasure her, or command him to the bed. But seeing him fight to restrain himself, and how the slightest touch made his body quiver, gave her other ideas.

Poppy pushed him back up against the wall and pulled down his pants and boxers, leaving them to pool around his ankles. His cock sprang free as Poppy dropped to her knees. She wrapped her lips around him without hesitation or build-up.

“Pop… _Uung_ ,” Tora moaned, his broad shoulders bowing over in surprise as Poppy sucked lightly at his head, then bobbed her mouth further down his length. He let out another moan and buried his hands into her hair.

She looked up and pulled her mouth off him slowly.

“No,” she said.

“No?” he drew his hands back in confusion.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Poppy said.

He stared at her in disbelief, but she didn’t blink. He pressed his palms back flat against the wall. A shudder ran through him as she returned her mouth to him and added a hand to his shaft. Tora’s breathing was fast and shallow. Each stroke was a shock of electricity. His hands grabbed at the wall and found no purchase. He cried out as she took his length into her.

“Poppylan,” Tora whimpered. She’d turned him to putty.

She drew her lips away from him, but kept stroking with her hands, hard and fast.

“Do you like this?”

“Y…yes,” he gasped. “But I… should be… doing you.”

“I thought it was up to me,” Poppy said, her hands still pumping away at him.

“Fuck,” Tora gasped, throwing his head back, his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his mouth wide open.

“Don’t swear,” Poppy whispered.

“…okay,” Tora said, his voice strained. He gasped for air. The tattooed man fought to stay upright, swaying even with the wall to support him. He felt like he was going to collapse.

She put her mouth back around him.

“I’m close,” Tora warned as he felt her warm breath. Poppy pulled away and stood up, then took his hand and led him deeper into the small house. He stepped out of his pants and boxers as he followed, leaving them by the door. Tora stumbled after her, his mind buzzing and his spit-covered cock throbbing desperately.

She dropped his hand in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Take off your shirt,” Poppy told him, and watched as he drew the orange fabric over his head. Then it was his turn to watch helplessly as she stripped down. He found himself grabbing his cock with one hand as she dropped her bra and freed her full breasts.

Desire won over him for a moment. He dared to take a step forward and reach out, pressing his erection against her side. Hungrily, Tora cupped one breast and kissed her on the neck, running his other hand over the hourglass shape of her body. Her skin was soft, warm, and familiar. Poppy moaned and let him fondle her for a moment, then she backed away from him. When he moved to follow her, she put out a hand on his chest to stop him. Panting, he waited and watched.

Her eyes bore into his as she backed herself up to the bed and lay down at the edge, then beckoned him over. He closed the distance in a single stride, but her hand stopped him from coming onto the bed to join her. Instead, she took his hand and drew it down to her bare crotch.

Tora knelt on the floor as he ran his fingers over her slit. She was soaking wet, and he felt his cock pulse again as he slipped his fingers between her tight folds and into her warm center.

He exhaled hard and plunged up to the base of his hand, then drew out and repeated the motion with a low growl of pleasure at her clear arousal.

“Tora?” Poppy said suddenly. He paused, tearing his eyes away from her pussy to search her face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to,” he said, and pushed his fingers back into her as she gasped. He started to rub at her clit with his thumb, his eyes still on her face. Her mouth contorted in the beginnings of pleasure.

“It feels weird. Bossing you around.”

“I’m _yours_ , Poppy.”

She threw her head back but said nothing else. He concentrated on pleasuring her as best as he knew how, determined to remind her how good he could make her feel. Before long she was moaning and riding his hand.

For a brief, horrible moment, he wondered if her imaginary lover made her feel like---

 _Fuck_. He bent his head down to the mattress and kept going with his hand, begging his mind to stay focused, stay here, stay with her.

“Enough,” Poppy interrupted his thoughts, her hips gyrating against his palm.

“Enough?” Tora asked, confused. He stilled his hand and lifted his face to watch her.

“Take me,” she ordered.

Despite how desperately he wanted to, he took a moment to process this. He didn’t want to make the wrong move.

“You’re sure?” Tora asked. He didn’t complete the sentence: _sure you want me to. Me._

Poppy made an exasperated noise and sat up. She grabbed the back of his neck and towed his head in for a kiss. He kissed her back. That made things clear enough.

Hand still inside her, and lips still on her, Tora stood up. He guided Poppy further back onto the bed and crawled onto the mattress between her legs.

He drew his hand out of her, his fingers covered in her fluid. He lined himself up. Then Tora plunged into her, and almost blacked out from the wave of gratification that crashed over him. 

“Sh… aaah,” he said, catching himself mid-expletive as he ground his groin against her, getting as deep into her as he could.

Poppy’s legs wrapped around him and her lips found his. He lifted her up slightly to wrap his own arms around Poppy’s waist, hugging her tight up against him. He breathed against her mouth and drove himself in and out of her.

“Harder,” Poppy whispered against his lips.

With a grunt he thrust as hard as he could, pulling himself most of the way out so he could really bore into her. She moaned as he slammed himself into her. And moaned again as he did again. He rammed his cock into her again and growled in pleasure when she cried his name. She was his, nobody else’s. His. His alone.

Then she silenced his hard exhales with a kiss, her lips locked on his as they both breathed through their noses, humming sounds of pleasure into each other as he hammered away.

It got to be too intense. He drew his hands away from her and propped himself up slightly, deepening the angle as he pushed back into her. He came.

He stayed in her, pushing slightly against her with his still-hard member as he brought his hand to her clit. Tora worked Poppy in deft circles as he lowered his mouth to her breast and bit her lightly, tugging at her and rubbing his tongue over her hardening nipple.

She clenched around his cock, bucking her hips up as a cry tore from her lips.

When he pulled out, they shared a long kiss.

“I missed you,” Poppy whispered. His heart skipped a beat. Fuck, it was so good to hear her say that.

“I miss you all the time,” he whispered back.

He rolled to the side and wrapped an arm around her. She faced away from him to press her back against his chest. Poppy gave a satisfied sigh as Tora enveloped her. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. She trailed her fingers over his muscular forearm.

When her fingers stilled, he stroked her side. Then her thigh. Then up to her chest, where he rolled a nipple between his fingers and kneaded her breast in his palm. Poppy made a little sound of pleasure, so he kept going and bent his neck to kiss the side of her neck.

“I hope I never make ya sad again,” he whispered to her.

“I’m sure you will, and I’ll do the same to you,” she whispered back. He drew his lips away. That wasn’t the reaction he’d wanted.

But Poppy craned her neck, tilting her face towards him. “Just promise me we’ll always take the time to fix it.”

“Poppy, are we gonna be alright?” he asked, leaving her breast to brush a finger across her cheek instead, peering down at her.

“We _are_ alright,” Poppy said fiercely. She brought a hand up to grab his head, awkward at her angle, and drew his lips back to hers. “This is for life.”

“Yeah,” he breathed as she released his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He ran his hand back along her, stopping to play with her breasts before burying two fingers between her legs. Poppy grabbed his wrist to keep it between her legs. She ground her ass back against him, rubbing against his groin.

“Do you think you can go again soon?” she asked.

In answer, he pulled his fingers away and lifted her top leg up and back over him. He adjusted himself and rubbed his hardening dick against her, teasing at her entrance until she shifted her angle and he could push his way inside.

He wrapped a hand against her stomach and slid his other arm under her head. He fucked her gently, tenderly, lovingly, but still felt a distance between them. In this position, neither their eyes nor their lips met. He buried his face in the top of her head and clung to her desperately. 


	13. You, Only, Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to get ahead of writing to have a buffer because I have a really busy week coming up, but TIL I have absolutely no self control so up the chapter goes -facepalm-
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

Night. The guards had come and gone twice, and the rest of the visit would be without interruption. They showered together.

Tora sat on the floor in front of the couch, Poppy behind him on the sofa. She was brushing his hair. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a small smile as she worked out a knot in his wet locks. The teeth of the brush felt good against his scalp. Her hands were gentle on his head.

“Let me do yours,” Tora suggested when she set down the brush.

He came up to the couch, sitting sideways on it and pulling Poppy’s hips towards him. With one leg crossed under him and the other stretched out on the ground, Tora took the brush in one hand and gathered a handful of her hair. Her long hair was made dark and somewhat straight by the water. Carefully he began to work the brush through it, keeping one calloused hand above the brush so he wouldn’t pull on her scalp.

“Now that we’re alone… will you tell me the whole story?”

“Of what?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“What happened. With Bax.”

“Only if you don’t get mad at me,” Poppy bargained.

His eyes widened and his hand stilled.

“I can’t promise how I’ll feel. But I’ll do my best,” he said at last.

Poppy nodded and turned back away from him. Then she began.

Only a few sentences into her story, Tora had stopped brushing her hair. He rested a hand on her shoulder and listened in silence as she told him what she had done to Bax, how Quincey had found Bax on the floor, how she’d had to hit him again when he started moving, how they’d tied him up… Poppy stayed with her back to Tora, talking softly as she recounted the horrible victory.

He had not taken her _‘I took care of it’_ quite so literally. When she had told him that she’d had it under control _before_ Quincey came home, he honestly had thought she meant she’d barricaded herself in a room or held him at gunpoint until someone could rescue her.

He had not, to be frank, dared imagine that his wife had beaten Bax unconscious with a rolling pin, tied him up, and waterboarded him. He had not realized how dirty she’d had to get her hands.

“You did that,” Tora whispered when Poppy at last finished.

“Yeah.”

“You.”

She turned back to look at him. “Well, don’t look so surprised. I _told_ you I handled it.”

“Shit. Ya really are a sadist.”

“It was self-defense!” She blushed and frowned at him.

“I’m just kidding.” He pulled her back onto his lap and held her tightly against him. “I’m proud of ya. Proud as hell. But… I hope you never have to do that again.”

“Me too. Honestly? It was _awful_.” Poppy turned her head so she could press her cheek against his chest.

“Well, now that I know you can beat me up, I better be on my best behavior.” He laughed down at her, flashing his dimples as she peered up.

“I did give you a bloody nose once already.”

“Yeah, but ya never handcuffed me to a chair.”

“Yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?”

“Just a joke.” Poppy looked down away from him.

“Hm.” He gently pushed her back up off him so he could continue brushing her hair. He worked out a small knot. Then something occurred to him, clicked into place. Tora paused, the brush raised, and then slowly dragged it through her mane. He frowned. “Poppy?”

“Yeah.”

“…why weren’t you at work?”

“I called out. Quincey wanted to have brunch.”

“But he was gone. When it happened.”

“He just ran to the store for juice. For mimosas.”

“Oh. Right.” He ran the brush through her hair again. “So you… you were skipping work to drink with Quincey? In the morning?”

“Yeah.”

“…Doesn’t sound like you.” She was normally the one who stayed late at work or went in on the weekend, an ethic that Tora had always admired in her.

“Well, I… I’d been upset. He insisted.”

“Why?”

“Why was I upset?” she glanced over her shoulder at him. He nodded slowly. “Well, I mean… you hadn’t called. Since the visit. It had been a few days.”

“So that’s my fault, too?” Tora asked bitterly. He moved on to the last handful of unbrushed hair.

“I never said that,” Poppy protested.

“Yeah. I know.” He took a deep breath.

“Tora, why are you asking about this, anyways?”

“It’s stupid. Something Bax said.”

He tossed the brush on the coffee table and turned so he could lean against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, dreading the conversation that was about to happen. But he knew it was about to happen. He couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“What did he say?” She turned around entirely so she was facing him, but he looked away.

“Said he was watching ya. Before he tried anything.”

“Oh,” Poppy said, feeling a chill on her spine at the thought. She hadn’t noticed anybody watching her. If it was true, it was freaky.

“…He said he saw ya. With another man.”

“Who? Quincey?”

“Maybe. Or he just made it up.”

“Tora, what are you…”

“He said you were cheating on me,” he muttered under his breath, a light blush coloring his cheeks. But Poppy heard it.

“Tora.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze, which was wide and horrified. “Tora, tell me you didn’t believe him.”

“I… I didn’t, but… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Tora, I would _never_.”

“I know, but… if you ever did…? Just don’t lie to me, Poppy. I’d rather hear it from you.”

“But I’m not. I haven’t. I _wouldn’t_.”

“If you say so,” he whispered.

She straddled him and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. She peered at him, hurt and desperate. “Tora. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with, and the only one I ever want to be with. That will _never_ change. And… and even if it _did?_ I would _never_ go behind your back. _Never._ ”

“I know, Poppy,” he agreed weakly. “I know you aren’t the type.”

“Then how can you be doubting me?” she cried.

He closed his eyes and swallowed. Took a deep breath.

“…I’m just scared,” he said at last. How hard that was to admit out loud. He wasn’t supposed to be scared. He wasn’t allowed to be scared. _No use for cowardly children. No use for a cowardly man._

“Scared?”

“Of losing you.”

“But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ah, sweetheart.” He gripped her shoulders and breathed raggedly, seconds from crying. “I feel… I felt like… I almost lost ya. So many times, in here. First ‘cuz of Bax. Then ‘cuz of myself. Being an asshole to ya.”

“Tora, no. You never came _close_ to losing me.” Poppy pulled him to her. She was crying, and then suddenly he was too. Gasping for air. Fuck. He hadn’t cried, _really_ cried, in longer than he could remember. He dug his fingers into his palms and tried to stop.

Poppy pulled his head against her shoulder.

“Tora,” she whispered. “Tora, I love you. _So_ much.”

He couldn’t even answer. All he could do was hold her, his shoulders shaking. At last he managed to even his breath back. He drew his head away.

“Fuck. Poppy.”

“Did I do something, to make you doubt me?” Poppy asked, her voice full of hurt.

He shook his head. “I… I think part of me still… feels like I ruined ya life. Like ya deserve someone who isn’t…” he ground his fist into the couch. Poppy grabbed it.

“Isn’t what, Tora? Nice? Sexy? Into me? Someone who doesn’t love me, all of me, just how I am? Who doesn’t support my dreams? Someone without _obscene_ dimples?”

“No, someone who isn’t…”

“Stop. Tora, please, just stop. You’re what I want. _You._ Only you. All of you. You didn’t ruin my life. Not for a moment.” She was holding onto his face and staring at him with such intensity that he couldn’t look away. At last he nodded slightly.

She was right.

He took another deep breath and brought his hands up to her face, and kissed her, slow and sweet.

“Poppy,” Tora whispered. “Oh, fuck. Poppy. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I would never leave you,” she said. “Never.”

“Me neither.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so worried?” she whispered. “All that stuff, Tora, about communication…”

He nodded. “Because I knew… I _knew_ you weren’t. Cheating. I just… I couldn’t stop…”

“You could have told me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not easy to say. And… sometimes I felt like you were… like there was a wall…”

She bit her lip and looked down. “Yeah. I… I’m sorry. It’s… I guess I’m not one to talk.” Poppy looked away. “Um. I guess I did kind of not tell you one thing, Tora?”

He waited with bated breath for her to explain. She nodded and kept talking.

“It’s… after the stuff. With Bax. To be honest? I’ve had a really hard time. Dealing with it. With what I did. With what could have happened. I… I haven’t been sleeping well. And I wanted to talk to you about it, but… I thought you’d blame yourself. Please don’t, it’s not your fault that he did what he did.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He pulled her in against him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m getting over it. But… maybe if I’d been more upfront… if we both had been…”

“From now on, we will be,” he said. She nodded. He stroked her back. And although his heart hurt for her and for what she’d had to deal with, that he hadn’t been able to protect her, that he couldn’t have let her keep her hands clean… nonetheless he felt at peace. More at peace than he had felt for the last month and a half.

It really was going to be okay. He believed that now. He _knew_ it. Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

They both slept that night, curled together, until an ungodly-early alarm roused them. Tora had thought perhaps he’d stay awake again, but Poppy had insisted that they both needed sleep. It was easier to drift into unconsciousness than he’d expected. He was so tired, and so at peace, that sleep claimed him quickly. That night, short as it was, was the best night of rest that either of them had gotten in over a month. Untroubled, holding hands, breathing the same air. Free of nightmares. Free of doubt.

A week after the visit, a letter from her arrived. The message was short and simple:

_“You, only, always”_

But in the envelope, she had printed pictures of their wedding, and selfies she had made him take with her, and a photo she’d taken of an overview on a hiking trip. Their whole love story boiled down to images and memories. He traded a cigarette for a piece of scotch tape and fixed a photo of them together up beside his bed. For the rest of his prison stint, it was the last thing he saw before bed, and the first thing he saw in the morning.


	14. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to a patreon post from 2017, Poppy's birthday is February 14th, so I'm assuming that's still cannon but idk for sure!
> 
> And a heads up, folks. I will do my best to keep up with the daily updates until this story is finished (just a few chapters left!) BUT--I have a reaaally busy two weeks ahead of me with work. If I end up missing a day or two, I promise I haven't ditched this!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. <3

_ <AN INMATE FROM NORTH NARIN DISTRICT PRISON IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT THIS CALL.>_

“Oooh,” Quincey said. He hit 1 while slipping a bookmark into his reading.

“Hey honey. Miss me?” Quincey stretched out to lounge on the couch, smiling up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, sure. I need a favor, princess.”

“Ouch, Tora. Is that all you have to say to me, after half a year?” Quincey masked a thread of genuine hurt beneath cheerful sarcasm.

“Ya know I got limited calls,” Tora growled at him.

“Yes, well, still…” Quincey tossed the book aside.

“I’ll make it up to ya when I’m out.”

“Hm. How?” Quincey pouted.

“Just… Quincey, fuck. I dunno.”

“Write me a letter.”

“A letter? Seriously?”

“Poppy got a letter.”

“Yeah, but Poppy—"

“ _And_ take me to dinner. When you’re out.”

“…fine.”

“Wherever I want.”

“ _Fine._ ”

“Just us. And you’ll pay.”

“Got it. Now will ya help me?”

“Letter now, dinner later. Don’t forget. Now what’s up, honey?” Quincey asked, inspecting his flawless fingernails for dirt.

“Poppy’s birthday. Coming up. Same day as valentine’s.”

“Uh-huh. I know. So?” Quincey folded his free arm across his chest.

“I need ya to buy stuff.”

“You never threw _me_ a birthday party.”

“I’m not married to ya,” Tora growled.

“You don’t say,” Quincey said flatly. “Thank goodness for that, honey. You wouldn’t last a day.”

“Are ya done? Can we move on?”

“Yes, yes, what do you want me to do?” Quincey sat up with a sigh and reached for his notebook. He always kept it near him when he read, in case he wanted to remind himself about something another author had done.

“Well… can ya buy her some flowers?”

“Sure. What type?” Quincey bit off the cap of his pen and flipped to a blank page.

“Uh… roses.”

“Roses? Not something more original?” The tip of the pen hovered over the page. Surely he could do better than _Roses_?

“…dunno many flowers,” Tora said.

“Lord. Any particular color, you brute?”

“…yellow?”

Quincey sighed. It wasn’t a dramatic enough sigh. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Tora. Oh, Tora. Yellow flowers means _friendship_.”

“…okay, red,” Tora huffed.

“You know what, honey? I’m just going to pick out the flowers.” Quincey scratched a note on the paper. “What else?”

“Chocolate.”

“Good lord, honey, do you want a cliché valentine’s day card, too?”

“She _likes_ chocolate, Quince.”

“If you think I’m going to help you plan the most _boring_ birthday that woman has ever experienced, Tora, you are dead wrong.”

“S’what I get her every year—”

“Oh, o-oohh, that makes it _sooo_ much better, I didn’t realize it was _tradition_ to bore her to death.”

“Fuck you.”

“Honey, do you usually get her a teddy bear, too?” Quincey’s voice dripped with disdain.

“Fuck no, I don’t get her a teddy bear.” He had, in fact, gotten her a plush hamster the year before. _Still_ , Tora thought, _s’not a bear._

“Well thank goodness for that. Okay, any inspired ideas besides ‘flowers’ and ‘chocolates’?”

“Jewelry.”

“Well, that, at least, I can work with. Honestly, Tora. Have you learned nothing from my years of tutelage?”

“Definitely. Not.”

“Well, I’ll take it from here. I think I can spruce it up a little.”

“But I didn’t even tell ya what sorta jewelry…”

“Oh, please, Tora. I’ve got this.”

“Wait, Quince, no, it’s from me, not you. Can ya get--”

“Don’t worry, Tora. I’ll give you all the credit.” Quincey slipped the cap back on the pen.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tora muttered.

\---

Poppy’s birthday dawned cold and snowy. She puttered around the kitchen getting her lunch ready for work. She was dressed professionally apart from the fuzzy slippers she had yet to exchange for heels.

Sasha lounged on his phone in the living room waiting to take her.

“Psst. Poppy.” Quincey poked around the corner, wearing a silk bathrobe, his hair only half-styled. He spoke in a dramatically loud fake-whisper.

“…yeah?” Poppy asked, shaking pretzels into a small Tupperware.

“What time are you getting home? Six?”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because it’s a surprise.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Quincey.”

“Six? You aren’t going out, right?”

“Six. No, not on a worknight. You’re still coming out with us on Friday, right?”

“Yes. Good. Don’t make plans tonight.”

“Okay.” She snapped the lid on the Tupperware.

“Seriously. Don’t make plans.”

“…I won’t.”

“You’ll be home at six.”

“Yes, dear, I’ll be home at six.” Poppy rolled her eyes and loaded up her bag.

A few hours later, at work, she got a call from Tora.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling, when he wished her a happy birthday/valentine’s.

“Wish I could give ya a kiss. Did you get anything from me yet?”

“Like in the mail?”

“Nah, through Quincey.”

“Not yet. But Quincey was being really weird about what time I would get home,” Poppy said.

“Alright. Uh, I should warn ya.”

“About what?”

“Well, when I asked him to grab some stuff for ya birthday… he…” Tora trailed off.

“...Was Quincey?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She giggled.

“If it’s really crazy, do you think ya could…”

“I’ll take pictures for you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

\---

Poppy blinked up at the snarling tiger figure, an illusion of muscles rippling underneath the painted chocolate hide. Slowly, she lifted her phone and took a picture.

“Quincey, this… is…”

“Amazing. I know.” He handed her a glass of champagne and they both stood admiring the life-like expression frozen above them.

“It’s really edible?”

“Every bit.”

Poppy stared a moment longer before turning and taking in the rest of the scene.

They stood in the living room, every surface of which exploded with arrangements of flowers. Baby’s breath and chrysanthemums; snapdragons and sweet peas.

“You’re wasted on the single life,” Poppy told him.

“Oh, darling, _I know._ But this is from Tora, not me,” Quincey said.

Poppy gave him a sidelong look.

Quincey threw up a hand. “Alright, I may have, um, interpreted his instructions liberally. But it’s nice, honey, isn’t it?”

“Over the top,” Poppy informed him. “But, yes. It’s, um, extraordinary.”

They stood and admired the display a little longer.

“Well, it’s accurate to how he feels about you, anyways,” Quincey rationalized with a sigh. “If that man had a romantic bone in his body, I’m sure you’d get this every year. Alas, you’ll just have to appreciate _my_ talents for this birthday, and then remember them always.”

“Well, I can think of _one_ romantic bone in…” Poppy cleared her throat and clapped a hand to her mouth. _Shoot. That was not supposed to be out loud._

“Honey, I do _not_ need to know the details.”

“What are we going to do with all these flowers?” Poppy asked. “I mean, they’re gorgeous, but where are we going to sit?”

“Don’t be so practical, Poppy,” Quincey sniffed. “I mean, honestly. That’s your first reaction? You two deserve each other.”

Poppy hugged him with one arm. “I didn’t mean it like that, Quincey. Thank you very much. It’s really amazing. I’m speechless.”

“Oh, the best part!” Quincey exclaimed, and darted over to the mantle piece. Poppy had not noticed a small box nestled between two of the flower vases. He passed it to her. After a moment of hunting for an available surface, Poppy found one and set down her wine flute. She opened the box.

Inside was a shockingly restrained set of earrings. Poppy picked one up. A honey-brown gemstone dangled at the end of a thin silver chain, catching the light and winking at her.

She looked up at Quincey. “They’re lovely.”

“That one, you really can thank Tora for,” Quincey said smugly.

“Oh?” Poppy set the earring back in the box and closed it.

“I helped him pick out your ring, you know,” Quincey said. “He saw those. Or, ones like them, at least. He almost got them for you then.”

“How can you possibly remember that?” Poppy said, blushing.

“Because he said they were the color of your eyes. I had never heard him talk like that.”

Poppy looked down at the little box in her hands.

“Thank you, Quincey.”

“Happy birthday, honey. Now, do you want to break that Tiger’s tail off, or may I?”


	15. Tattoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short!!! Enjoy

Months blurred and passed. Phone calls. Visits. And then it was their final overnight visit, and the one that fell closest to their wedding anniversary.

When Tora walked through the doorway of the little house, Poppy reached up to grab him for a kiss. But he moved faster, yanking her off the ground and tossing her over his shoulder without stopping or slowing down. He carried her into the bedroom and over to the bed without a word, then lay her down gently on the bed. On all fours hovering over her, Tora gave her a long, slow, dramatic kiss. Their lips moved against each other for almost a full minute before he broke away to peer down at her with a smile.

“Hi,” Poppy said, giggling.

“Happy anniversary. Almost-anniversary.” He kissed her neck.

“Happy anniversary. I can’t believe how fast the year went.”

Tora reached for one of her hands.

“I’m sorry,” he told her softly.

“No, don’t be.”

“I know this wasn’t exactly… the best first year. Or the best way to celebrate it.”

“You know what, Tora? It’s fine. Really.”

“But you deserve better.”

“We’ve been over this, love,” Poppy said with a groan.

“You’ve been so good to me. Staying with me, through all this. And I wish—”

He was cut off when Poppy pressed her free hand flat against his mouth. His eyebrows knitted together. He let go of the hand he was holding to pry away the one over his mouth. Then he kept talking.

“—I wish that you could—”

Poppy shoved her newly-freed hand back in place and shook her head.

“Tora, _obviously_ , I wish you were home. But sometimes it’s best to look for the silver lining.”

“Which is?” he asked after peeling her hand back off his mouth.

“Honestly? Everything we’ve been though, talked about? The work we’ve done? I think our relationship is going to be a long stronger and more honest when you get out then it would have been. I know _I’ve_ grown.”

“Hm.” He ran a hand through her hair. “I guess. It’s a nice thought.”

“Instead of being sad about what this year looked like, let’s just spend tonight being happy for what we have.”

“I can do that,” he agreed with a smile. “I’m still gonna get ya something nice when I get out.”

“What, you mean you didn’t ask Quincey to pick something out?”

“Yeah, no. You sent me the photos from ya birthday. That man is certifiably insane. Who the hell hires a chocolate sculptor? How the hell is that a job?”

“It _was_ a lot of fun. And I did get to eat the ears.” She tugged his head down and bit the side of one of his ears lightly.

“Mmmn… I’m sure it was ‘fun.’ It also wasn’t me.” He pressed his lips against her kneck.

“Well, that’s true. So what are you getting me?”

“Haven’t decided.”

“Well, I… sort of _did_ get you something. I hope you like it, anyways.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha get me?” He rolled onto his side and flashed his dimples at her.

“Um…I got a tattoo.”

“…You? For real?” His eyes were wide, his mouth flat and serious. At one point, Poppy had told him she had no interest in getting a tattoo. This was a surprising development.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, _Where?”_ His eyes were suddenly exploring her body with a whole new intensity. Her jeans and socks hid her legs. Despite the warm weather, she’d worn a shirt with loose, lacy sleeves. He pushed back the left sleeve and checked her arm, then the other. Nothing.

“I’m not telling,” Poppy giggled. “You have to find it.”

He took his time searching. Longer than he needed to take, certainly. First he brushed her hair away from her neck; pulled her upright and gathered it to check the back of her neck and behind her ears. With Poppy still sitting, he peeled her shirt off slowly. As if he couldn’t clearly see her stomach was bare of markings, he brought his face close to her skin and kissed as he explored. Assured nothing was there, he moved behind her and explored her back and shoulders with his hands before unhooking her bra.

“I don’t think you’ve found it,” Poppy giggled when he pushed her back down and buried his face in her chest.

“Mmm…. Never know,” Tora muttered back, and sucked briefly on one nipple until it stood hard and upright.

He moved down the bed and tugged off one sock, then the other. He held each foot one at a time, pushing her legs up into the air to he could study it from every angle.

“You’re certainly thorough,” Poppy gasped as he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly unzipped them.

“Wouldn’t wanna miss anything,” he said back, his husky voice ragged with desire.

He peeled her jeans off her slowly, pressing his lips once against a thigh as he did so. He grabbed the fabric bunched around her ankles and slowly drew it over her feet, then paused and wrapped a hand around her ankle. The tattoo was just above it.

“A tiger, huh?” he breathed, looking at the small striped face. Its amber eyes met his.

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly.

“’Course I like it.” He inspected it for a moment longer, then set her leg down and crawled back on top of her.

“I might’ve gotten a second one,” Poppy whispered.

“Seriously?” He peered down at her, surprised.

“Er, no. But I think you’d better keep looking, you know? Just in case.”

“Uh-huh. Ya artist mighta snuck one onto ya in secret, that what you saying?”

“Can you check for me and make sure?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he murmured as he slipped a hand underneath her panties and pushed them down her thighs. “I’ll be _real_ thorough.”

\---

They ate dinner on the couch, happily brainstorming everything they would do on his upcoming release.

“Eat at Alice’s,” Tora said, stabbing a soggy vegetable with his plastic fork.

“Go for a long drive at night,” Poppy said, taking a sip of water.

“Sex in every room of the house,” he said, and poked her with his elbow.

“And I’ll stock the fridge full of strawberry juice.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“What about a getaway? I seem to remember a really cute cabin with a hot tub…”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“…might have to hold off on that one,” Tora admitted.

“Why? You don’t want to?”

“I’ve been away a long time. I’m sure Vincent will wanna keep me busy.” He took a bite of his food. Poppy didn’t miss the tightness of his jaw or that the hand gripping his fork was now a fist.

“Back to work? Right away?” she asked, trying to keep fear out of her voice. It was work that had gotten him here to begin with. She did not want him to return.

“Not up to me,” he reminded her.

“I know.” She rubbed his back and felt him relax a little under her gentle hand.

“We get to sleep in the same bed and come home to each other. That’s enough for me.”

“Me too,” Poppy said after a moment, and meant it.


	16. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y’all, thanks for reading along. This is the final chapter. I know I had a few more scheduled, but I realized I could actually fit all the scenes into this chapter because I didn’t need to make any of them as long or as detailed as I’d been thinking I would. It started to feel like I was just dragging it out otherwise! Anyways, enjoy 😊

Tora lounged against the wall in the phone room, the clunky prison phone pressed against his ear for the last time.

“So just us tomorrow, and then lunch with everyone the day after.”

“’kay,” Tora said.

“Did you decide yet? About dinner?” Poppy asked.

“Nah. Don’t care.” He fiddled with the cord connecting the phone to the wall.

“You’re sure? I’m shopping this afternoon, so I could get anything.”

“Well, maybe… nah, never mind.” A grown man couldn’t ask for cute rice animals. Not in public. He had his pride.

“Tell me!”

“Nah.” Tora smiled. She could be so pushy.

“Tora…”

“Said anything’s fine.”

“Alright. Well, I’ll pick something out. I can’t believe it’s just one more night.”

After the call, he had an hour before his final afternoon shift. He went looking for Bax. He at last ran into him when the bald man emerged from the showers, towel slung over his shoulder.

“Bax,” Tora said. Even now his fists were just itching to lay the fucker out.

Bax froze and scowled at him, trying to look brave.

“You got a few years left, yeah?” Tora asked. “Word of advice. Don’t get out early. Hell, if I were you, I’d see about staying in extra.” Tora took a step closer so he could speak under his breath. “Soon as you hit the streets, you’re mine.”

\---

Then it was the day. He mutely accepted back his own clothes. Grey jeans, black tank top, black shoes, black hat. A second plastic bag held other personal effects and he rifled through this, putting on each item as he grabbed it. Skull necklace. Joe’s bracelet. Wallet back into his pocket; empty of money (fuck them). Joe’s ring. Of course, no gun. They’d taken that. Cell phone, long since dead.

His wedding ring.

It felt weird to wear all this shit again after a year of orange. It had felt weird to take it off, too, he remembered, like his fingers were naked. This was a better change.

He walked through the final gate, and Poppy was there. He grabbed her around the waist, and they kissed until Tora pulled away.

“Can we get outta here?” he asked.

He didn’t miss the shimmer of tears in her eyes. She nodded.

“Keys?” he asked.

“You want to drive?” Poppy asked.

“Uh-huh.”

It took a moment to readjust the blue sports car. The seat was so far up his knees would have been on the wheel. The mirrors all wrong. Poppy got into the passenger seat and waited for him to finish before taking his hand. Tora rolled down the windows and turned on the radio. He pulled his hand away from Poppy’s for a moment so he could light a cigarette, then leaned back with a happy sigh.

“Alright. Fuck this place.”

He tore backwards, flipped into drive, cut the wheel hard and sped out the gate. Grabbed Poppy’s hand again.

“Slow down!” She squealed as he hit the highway. He grinned but didn’t.

Wind in his hair. Music. Poppy.

Freedom.

\---

He carried her through the doorway, then paused, looking around.

Right. This was home.

Framed pictures on the wall. Shelves of books, some with their spines hidden—he smirked, knowing what was in those volumes. Knick knacks on the shelves, like those little bear statues. A bucket of paint brushes.

He set her down and she held onto his arm, trailing behind him as he wandered through. Now and then he reached out to touch something.

He glanced into his small closet before shutting it quickly. It was all there, he didn’t need to reminisce over it; work jumpsuits, guns, backpack, gloves…

His nightstand held a lamp and the strawberry hair tie. His phone charger was still plugged into the wall. He took the device out of his pocket and hooked it in.

“I’m going to finish dinner,” Poppy said over his shoulder.

“Want help?” He caught her by the hand and towed her in for a kiss.

“No, not tonight,” Poppy murmured.

He looked around a little longer, touching everything as if to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He was really home. At last he had acclimated himself back to this space, so much larger and brighter than his cell. It felt good, but a little like he was exposed, too. He went to find Poppy.

Coming up behind her, Tora put his fingers on the small of her back and looked over her shoulder.

“Shit,” he said. She was making those little rice animals.

“Huh?” Poppy looked over her shoulder at him.

“How’d ya know?”

She looked down at the hamster she was making, then back up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I was hoping for those.” He wrapped his arm all the way around her.

“What? Why didn’t you say so?” Poppy screeched. She put down the one she was making, a few grains of rice still on her fingers, and turned in his embrace to face him. Her crotch and chest burned where they touched him, her body yearning for the man who towered against her.

“So?”

“Tora! Do you know how hard it was for me to make up my mind? I went back and forth, like, ten times!”

“Well, ya got it right.”

“Agh! You should’ve just told me what you wanted!”

He dodged a fake uppercut, then let go of her to catch a jab in his palm, grinning at her as she swatted him with her tiny fists. With both her hands caught in his, he backed her up against the countertop and pinned her there with his bodyweight. Poppy softened against him, her cries of mock-outrage morphing into a soft moan of desire at the way his bulging erection pressed against her stomach.

“You know what I want,” he told her.

He let go of her fists to reach behind her, pushing aside everything on the countertop. Tora lifted Poppy up onto the cleared space and closed the distance instantly. She wrapped her legs around him as he pushed his body against hers. She broke away from a kiss with a gasp.

“Tora… the stove…”

He glanced at the simmering burner, then reached a long arm over to turn it off.

“Anything else?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“No.”

“Good. Dinner can wait.”

\---

Lunch the next day. Quincey had picked out a restaurant; thankfully, he got a private room. Half of them were underdressed in street clothes. Only Quincey, Poppy, and Gyu looked decent.

Gyu, Quincey, Sasha, Poppy, and few other Balthuman guys sat around a long rectangular table. Poppy was mesmerized looking at the art on the walls; Tora was more focused on all the people he hadn’t seen in so long.

The waitress and Gyu had worked together before and shared a few quick words before Quincey waved her over impatiently. Breezing through the menu, he ordered enough for twice as many people.

It was an easy group. Nobody that he had to watch himself around.

Tonight would be different. Tora pushed down a ball of annoyance in his stomach and focused on the here and now. In a few hours he’d be in Vincent’s office getting orders. But here, now, the world was simple. After a year in prison, with almost no contact besides Poppy, it was a thing of wonder to feel like there were so many people who cared about him.

He took a sip of his tea and smiled inwardly. Okay, maybe not that many people. It wasn’t like he had many friends. But as he caught a glance from Gyu and turned back to the story Quincey was telling, Tora didn’t care. These people were more than enough for him.

He grabbed Poppy’s hand under the table and squeezed it.

\---

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Poppy said. He gave her one more kiss, even though they already kissed goodbye.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t wait up if it gets late.”

Then he was gone. For a moment Poppy felt like she couldn’t breathe. _Okay, hold it together._

She realized then that she hadn’t really had to worry about his life while he was in jail. As awful as it was to be without him, she always knew where he was. An image of him bleeding out in an alley rose up in her mind; she pushed it down. He knew how to take care of himself. Nobody was getting the jump on him.

What if he got arrested again?

No. He would be careful. He wouldn’t slip up.

She tried to start a painting but it quickly became chaotic. The colors muddled together under her shaky hand, the lines wobbling. No painting for now. She grabbed a book. Took a bath. Ate. Turned on her laptop and tried to mark up a manuscript. Watched an animal video on her phone. It was getting late.

Poppy broke down and texted Tora. He messaged back almost right away.

_I’m fine. Go to sleep._

She puttered around a little longer, but at last put on her pajamas, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. _He was fine_. He’d be home eventually. She crawled into bed and tried to sleep, but her eyes kept flitting back open. At last she drifted off, uneasily…

The door opened with a creak, pulling Poppy out of her shallow rest.

“I’m home,” Tora said softly from the other room, in case she was awake. She was too sleepy to say anything back. She heard him padding through the house. Heard the water running in the bathroom. Heard a heavy sigh, a muttered curse word. Heard the rustle of clothing as he stripped down and pulled on sweatpants.

The bed shifted as his weight came onto the mattress. He climbed under the covers and Poppy rolled into him as he gathered her in his arms. She felt his lips against her cheek, and tilted her mouth up to meet his.

 _Home._ Together. And just like that, everything was okay.


End file.
